


Good little Outlaw

by Angelicasdean



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Arthur Morgan Lives, Dutch wasn't always crazy, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Eventual Happy Ending, Everybody Lives, Fix-It, Fuck Micah, Hurt Arthur Morgan, Hurt/Comfort, Protectiveness, Reincarnation, Self-Sacrifice, Sick Arthur, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think, Two Endings, high honor arthur, let Arthur say fuck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-04-19
Packaged: 2019-11-04 11:34:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 30
Words: 60,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17897678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelicasdean/pseuds/Angelicasdean
Summary: (To give Credit where Credit is due before anything I want to say full and total credit for the idea should go to Olberic. This is heavily inspired if not ripped off of their story "A second redemption", it's only 4 chapters so far and hasn't been updated in a while and this is why I'm writing this (because I'm too invested in the story and it's not finished yet)English is not my native language so please forgive if any mistake is there!)Arthur takes his last breath, he wonders wether he'll go to heaven or hell. But when he opens his eyes, he finds himself cold on top of a horse and getting called.





	1. Chapter 1

Arthur watches the sunrise, memories of his teenage days running in front of him, practically mocking with his situation, Dutch and Hosea and Little Marston riding together, alone, no Micah and No Pinkertons. Drinking with Lenny and joking about it, Pushing Sean in the lake and laughing when he screams about getting shot, Hunting with Hosea but ending up admiring the Deer instead. He blinks, and for a second, he can feel his chest get lighter; he can breathe. And then it’s dark. The wind must have picked up, it’s roaring against his ear and he wonders if death should be this cold. He hears voices and wonders if it’s true you see your beloved when you die.

He sure as hell is about to find out.

“Arthur!” He hears, it’s faint and overshadowed by the shriek of the wind, of the cold. He blinks, not realizing that the darkness changed and he can see again. It’s white, and it is dark but mostly white. He sees a light and squints, his hat almost blown off by a sudden burst of wind. _But I was hatless when I died_ , He thinks unhelpfully, he looks down, it’s not Boadicea, He pats him and hears the shout again “Arthur! Did you find anything?”

Dutch? He thinks for a second it’s another memory. After Blackwater, undeniably now, he remembers well. He looks up and Sees Dutch and Hosea looking earnest and drained at him.

 _Hosea_. He thinks, he knew he missed him something fierce but seeing him again; it ignites a pain in his chest. “Hosea?” He whispers in disbelief, feeling his heart stutter for a moment, _this is different_ “I-I found a place, up ahead? We can get shelter there” He says, he remembers this conversation. The wind and cold make sense now. “It’s a mining town, abandoned, we uh, let Davey rest”

The memory doesn’t end like the others, Arthur leads them to the town, Hosea checks for anyone in the sheds, while Arthur helps the women down from the carriages. The move Davey, Arthur already expects when they announce Davey is dead. He expects Dutch’s speech, bitterness rising at the words. He can’t believe that he ever held on to the words of Dutch so foolishly, he nods though; The rest of the gang look solemn and he knows the path they lead from this moment forward. And now, he’s seeing it again. He fears if maybe, this isn’t a memory anymore and the years of murder and theft drove him crazy.

“come on, Arthur, we’ve got work to do”

They find Micah, Arthur has to restrain himself to not murder him on the spot. In front of Dutch at least. They find the O’Driscolls, Arthur finds his Tennessee Waker, Light. Arthur suffers again with his self-constraint as he watches Micah scare Sadie, keeps his mouth shut as he guides her to the horses, and in a moment of pure idiocy, offers her his coat. Seeing Sadie scared and weakened is far from what he’s used to, and she’d been one of the few ones to stand with him in the end. She deserves to not freeze on their way back. Micah calls him soft, Dutch give him a look and they ride back.

Tilly and Karen take Sadie and before they go, he hands Sadie a can of beans he had. Whatever he can do to make the situation better. He gives Jack a can of fruit and the rest to Pearson. Micah complains as Arthur goes to his cabin. Arthur goes to sleep.

He wakes up again, this time expecting maybe it would be a different memory. Maybe at Valentine Or Rhodes. But the cold settling in his lower back and neck tells him otherwise, He never got the Jacket back before sleeping, and if the horse ride hurt him, the frostbite on his calf laughs in its face and burns with a swell. Maybe he was an idiot.

He was definitely an Idiot, the trip to get back his jacket was short but colder than necessary and Sadie shakes his hand when he arrives. She looks better, less shaken and more settled. He goes to find Abigail, sure she’ll ask him about John.

He’s not wrong, he’s so right in fact, that he leads his entrance with “I’m going out to find John,” and Abigail lets out a breath, hugging Arthur around the neck.

“You’re a good man, Arthur,” She says with worried eyes as he exits, the cold not painful not with his jacket tightly wrapped around him. Javier rides with Arthur, and the trip is cut short as Arthur leads through a direct way.

When they find John, Arthur laughs, He can’t believe that he once stood in this position and held bitterness towards his little brother. “So funny, Arthur, Nice to see you enjoy the view” John grumbles as Arthur carries him to the horses.

“Shut up, John, be thankful you taste like shit," John laughs. They exchange retorts, Arthur threatens to drop John if he makes one more sarcastic comment.

“Look up there!” Javier says; Arthur remembers, Wolves, he thinks as he hands John to Javier. He reaches for his rifle but doesn’t feel it.

“Shit” He whispers, taking out his pistols, he points towards the first one running at Javier and shoots it, the other two run towards him and his shoots. He tries to fire at the third but forgets to reload and gets swiped across his chest, it tears through his jacket but doesn’t touch his skin, he reloads, as quick as he can but the wolf jumps at him; claws first and he has just enough time to hide his face. _Don’t wanna_ _look like Marston_ , he thinks jokingly. All the jokes go forgotten when the wolf bites on his arm though, forcing the gun out of his hand as it thrashes, trying to get to his face, arm still bit down on. He holds back a scream as the wolf tears at his skin and reaches for the gun, shooting it and letting the wolf drop to the snow.

“Arthur!” Javier shouts, riding his horse near, the Tennessee Walker behind him, neighing at the disturbance and the gunshots “Are you all right?”

“It’s nothing, Javier, let’s get Marston back to camp” Javier nods and they kick off. This is different from last time.

Miss Grimshaw, Hosea and Dutch flock around him, John now tucked and getting treated by Reverend Swanson. Hosea stuffed what little herbs they have around John’s wounds to stop infections so Arthur was left to drown his in rum. Miss Grimshaw wrapped him and Dutch clapped his shoulder and told him he did a good job. He still went hunting, alone that time after he told Charles he wants time alone, borrowing his bow and bidding him goodbye. Miss Grimshaw put up a fight about leaving, wounded, healing and in the calming storm, but Pearson said they’ll all starve and Charles can’t hold a bow straight yet.

So Arthur went, his bow skills gained from his... past life or other life or whatever, true life, maybe. He got the two deers, rode back with one on his lap and an unfortunate rabbit he rode over, hooked on his saddle. The camp was excited, to say the least, he helped Pearson skin the deer and greeted Uncle. Micah retorts he’s their knight in shining armor and Arthur, for the third time in two days, stops himself from sending the fool to the devil himself. He busies himself drawing the landscape and the images of Javier and Hosea talking while Abigail and John go back and forth on nothing. In the end, he finds himself walking in on Micah insulting Bill and Lenny. “Couple of days on the lam and you lot have all turned yella,” He says as Arthur grabs the Brandy from his hand. He doesn’t drink, just hold it as Micah scoffs “Except you of course” He says mockingly towards Lenny. Arthur doesn’t see why any of them kept up with him, and now, with the knowledge of the rest of his cut short life, he doesn’t like the implication that he can’t do anything different. Maybe not get tuberculosis but that’s it. He might prevent Sean and Hosea from dying, Lenny even but it all rides on if Dutch hears him out. If he can convince Hosea to convince Dutch that Micah is a bad man, more fit to be an O’Driscoll than a Van Der Linde. He doesn’t stop Bill from punching Micah, Javier and Lenny attempt to but Bill kicks Micah hard enough to fall.

Dutch enters “Stop it, Now!” He demands, Arthur grins, Micah collecting himself off the floor and scowling at Bill with something akin to murder in his eyes. “You fools, fighting each other when Colm O’Driscoll needing punching. Hard! You wanna sit around? Wait for him to come to find us?” Arthur almost snorts, Dutch’s conviction foolish to him now rather than inspiring He picks a cigarette and steps out, Bill and Javier following as Dutch changes the subject “We’ve got work to do” Arthur’s blood freezes, and it’s not the cold. They’re about to make their first mistake. Well, second if you count Blackwater.

"You sure about this, Dutch?" Arthur asks and Dutch fixes him a stare. He doesn't enjoy getting opposed much and even less when his 'prized pony', as everyone so kindly calls him, doing it is much less, especially when Arthur never really goes against Dutch's word. Arthur is-was-a good little outlaw, always following Dutch's commands like they were the Gospel. "Folks had a tough time, hardly back on their feet, nowhere near strong enough to go into a fight and risk Pinkertons getting on our backs again. "

"You doubting me, Arthur? Now you might fancy living in Deer piss and Rabbit shit, but I for one, am getting too old for this." Dutch says firmly "So are you with us or not?" he asks, grabbing hold of Arthurs' arm, seemingly forgetting the healing wound there. Arthur winces and Dutch instantly drops his hold "Sorry, son," Dutch says apologetically.

"Ain't nothing, Dutch." Arthur says with a sigh "Yeah, I'm with you"

"Good, now, Mister Matthews, Mister Smith, and Mister Pearson would you please look after the camp, there are O'Driscolls around!" Dutch yells as he kicks off his horse.


	2. Chapter 2

 

It's dawn when Arthur wakes up, he awaits the regular suffocation that followed then remembered that he was reborn or put back in time or hallucinating-whatever this is. There's a tickle in his throat though, but the weather hasn't been exactly kind and a sore throat was far better than what he could have gotten, with him playing gentleman and lending his coat in the middle of a goddamn snowstorm. He clears his throat and grabs his hat, unhappy with the situation. They got Kieran in the shed, the poor boy probably freezing his ropes off, he doesn't know what to do about it though. He'd hear him shouting about not being an O'Driscoll every-time he passes the shed and he'd nod at him, unable to do anything else at the moment. It's three days after when he hears Kieran crying of hunger and Arthur manages to sneak in a few oatcakes he picked off of the O'Driscolls and water. He halfheartedly threatens to shoot him if he mentioned this to anyone, but continuously sneaks in whatever he has in his satchel. 

He hunts with Charles; the man got restless after a few days of only being able to guard and forced Arthur to take him along, his hand was getting better, but Arthur still handled the bow. Dutch and Hosea are often in John's cabin, checking, undressing and redressing his wounds. It breaks his heart to think Dutch would leave John in prison in a few months; he shakes it off; determined now he will not let that happen. He already planned ways to save the others, if the timeline remained the same, he would save Sean easily, would save himself by not threatening the folk that lent money, Hosea... he goes through many scenarios but doesn't know which is the best.

It's the day that Dutch proposes the train heist, well, 'proposes' is a gentle term. 

Hosea says his part, and though Arthur couldn't see it before, he knows now; they should not do this. Cornwall is a shark, and they're just poor fishermen; they can take shots at him but when he bites; it's a big loss.  He still holds the sight of Lenny falling to the ground after the Pinkertons gunned him down. He lost so much; they lost so much and this is the turning point. Now Arthur has to change the course of the future, test if he can deter it. "What choice do we have?" Dutch says.

Arthur watches Bill go, he waits, "Leviticus Cornwall is no joke, Dutch" Hosea intones, he shares a glance with Hosea and blinks. He doesn't interrupt as the quiet stretches and Dutch stares aimlessly at Hosea.

"We need the money" He finally breaks, Arthur places a hand on Dutch's shoulder "We need money to survive, this train is-it's our ticket, Hosea," Dutch says firmly and looks at Arthur, who shakes his head and moves to stand beside Hosea.

"Dutch, I think... look, this train; it's bad business. The Pinkertons are hot on our trail, we can get money when we're not risking being frozen. When we're on warm dry land. What we have now, it's enough to move us to a safer place. Our plan was to lie low..." Arthur points out calmly, he keeps any accusation out of his voice, eyes leveled at Dutch who splutters.

This Dutch still isn't used to an argumentative Arthur outside poker. Hosea looks as shellshocked as Dutch, Arthur doesn't waver "This ain't me doubting you, Dutch. This is me stating the obvious. If we rob this train? Pinkertons will have Cornwall with them, and we don't need a millionaire helping and motivating those sad sons of bitches" 

Dutch blinks, slow and calculating. Arthur glances at Hosea who looks at him with something akin to wonder.

"All right, Arthur. If we... don't rob this train, march into a new place. Then what?" Dutch asks challengingly, Arthur shifts on his feet. The obvious would be to rob stagecoaches running by, he already knows everything about Valentine. Could even head to Strawberry before Micah shoots the place to hell. He can't say that, though. 

"We rob. When we're stable and on our feet again. Can even talk to the O'Driscoll boy and see if he has anything on Colm's plans. Dutch it's easy, trust me," Arthur says.

"There's a small town, livestock town, called Valentine. We could head down to it and set up camp there." Hosea chimes and Dutch sighs, "Robbing Cornwall, Dutch, that has warnings all over. This could be a bigger fish than we can fry." 

They stand in silence, Dutch's eyes shifting from Hosea to Arthur and back. Finally, Dutch speaks "We better find some goddamn money soon, or we won't be able to survive," He says tensely as he heads to his cabin "Arthur, go get Bill back. Everybody else, pack up; we're leaving" He calls before Arthur allows himself a smile as he mounts his horse.

"Come on, boy" He muses as he unhitches his horse and guides it towards where Bill left.

 

 Bill grumbles as he untangles the explosives and rides back with Arthur, he draws out the ride as he takes a moment to himself, ignoring Bill's complaints and breathing peacefully. He hadn't appreciated the act of breathing until it hurt. It doesn't feel like knives in his chest when he rides his horse; it feels easy when he laughs, he can hold his breath again and he can even smoke; though he doesn't anymore, too wary of anything that could damage his lungs. Hosea and Charles greet them as they return and Arthur quickly excuses himself to pack up his own valuables. He doesn't have much, but what he owns is close to his heart. There's a knock on the wall and he turns to face Charles.

"We're about to leave, got your things?" He asks, and Arthur nods.

"Sure," he nods and heaves the weathered chest that holds everything he owns. 

Arthur hauls his belongings on the wagon and begins to climb but Hosea stops him, "Ride beside me, I want you to handle the horses" He says and Arthur nods, climbing upfront instead as Charles takes his place. 

 

They ride in relative silence, The sounds of horse hooves, distant chatter between the girls and general nature sounds are all there is. Arthur feels sedated but doesn't get too comfortable as Hosea keeps looking over at him like he's waiting for the right moment. "You got something to say, old man?" Arthur asks after the tenth glance his way, they're not even out of the snow yet. 

"You know, Arthur," Hosea starts and Arthur groans his distaste, this will get uncomfortable really soon. Hosea doesn't give Arthur's dismay a though and continues, "When you were just a boy, you ran Dutch crazy with your... arguments. Swear you almost gave Marston a run for his money, but while he was explosive, you played your arguments..."

"Sanely?" he completes and Hosea laughs slightly as Arthur cracks a smile.

"Maybe so, but it stopped as soon as Marston came along. Dutch almost go worried with you not going against everything he does, till he noticed that journal of yours." Hosea shakes his head "We'd see you writing like you're at gunpoint every time Dutch would suggest a raid and we realized; you didn't agree with Dutch, you swore at him in secret," Hosea says airily as if it's the funniest realization, Arthur couldn't help but share a chuckle; the man was infectious with his good moods.

"I ain't denying that but I ain't confirming it either," He jokes and Hosea laughs wholeheartedly.

"Sure, sure thing, Arthur," Hosea smiles, rubbing his hands together for warmth "Seeing you stand up to Dutch after, what close to fifteen years of following begrudgingly? I thought I got thrown in history" 

"Yeah, well, as you said; Leviticus ain't easy to play with and I'm not too excited to ruffle his bushes" Hosea hums, satisfied as he leans back and rests peacefully.

"Beautiful weather today,"  Arthurs hums an agreement. It's quiet again, this time Hosea is enjoying the first exposure to the sun in almost two weeks.

 

 

"Home sweet home," Arthur says under his breath as they lead the wagon through the familiar terrain. Their wagon is a little late because of the wheel falling (Arthur didn't remember to fix it before they left) and plain taking it slow to absorb the freshness of the surrounding warmness. Pearson and Grimshaw were already unpacking and dear old Micah was on Arthur's ass as soon as they arrived.

"Hey, Morgan, you're finally joining us" he drawls as Arthur hops down from the wagon, he waves Hosea off when he attempts to help to unpack, old man thinks he's in his prime again after successfully lifting a wagon. "So, since we're flying, broke, you got any ideas on where we can get food and medicine, little Jack is coming with a cold from those frosty heights" Micah smiles, Arthur would near it to an alligator smile but that would be offensive, to the alligator. Or any animal in the animal kingdom. Arthur tells him not to worry about it and heads to check on Jack, asking Abigail and the rest of the gang if there is anything they need while he's out. The consensus was food, ammo, and beer.

  
And so Arthur rides, he heads to Valentine then Strawberry does some business and ends up with enough to make up for what they lost by not raiding the train, money wise. He ends up staying at the hotel and meeting a few town folks who invite him to a poker match, which he luckily wins. It’s the dawn of the third day when he goes on a hunt and an almost uncomfortably familiar ache rides up his chest to his throat, he drinks water from a river and continues his search. He ends up getting a deer, a few rabbits he picked up, and a nasty sunburn but rides back to camp proud as he puts forward the many herbs, tonics, cans of food and stolen valuables he collected. Dutch looks satisfied and Micah looks pissed but the camp is happy and they end up toasting their beer to Arthur and singing around the campfire.

He coughs and his blood runs cold, he knew that being on those mountains; he had to come back with something. But he thought maybe he only got out with the ever healing frostbite on his leg. It scares the hell out of him, thinking he’d somehow got TB from another source. He must have shown it since Hosea ribs him and asks why he suddenly went all brooding and silent, he tries to laugh it off but Hosea furrows his brows and he knows this will come up later. For now, Hosea looks forward and joins the gang singing ‘Ring Dang Doo’.

Arthur goes to Kieran, mood now darkening. The boy is held upright against a pole, only thing holding him the ropes around his wrists “Do-don’t hurt me, I swear I’m not one of them!” He says, Arthur smiles and takes out a can of beans he bought earlier and cracks it open.

“Ain’t no one hurting you, pal,” He assures and Kieran relaxes, letting Arthur tip the beans in his mouth. He stares at Arthur suspiciously and Arthur squirms under the gaze, he never enjoyed being assessed much; doesn’t like to have the possibility of being figured just by his looks.

“Thank you, Mister,” Kieran says and Arthur shrugs “I-what are they going to do with me?” he asks and Arthur chuckles, looking back at the gang singing loudly and some even offbeat.

“Geld you,” Arthur says simply and Kieran looks terrified and Arthur is quick to follow up “If you don’t talk, that is.” He tips the can again after Kieran is done chewing “Bill is an enthusiast when it comes to bodily harm. Quite the artist, I personally try to bribe him with food,”

“I’ll talk, just... just don’t hurt me,” Kieran mumbles, beans half chewed and spilling out. Arthur grimaces and Kieran is quick to correct his mistake “Sorry, I usually have better manners”

“Yeah, well, kid. I’ll tell you what, you tell me everything you know about the ongoing plans of Colm’s boys and I’ll let you run off”

“But-”

“No buts kid, would you rather getting questioned by me or Bill?” he asks, Kieran sags against the pole but nods “Don’t you have family out there, kid?”

“No, I wouldn’t have run with Colm if I did.” Arthur nods as if its new information.

“How about, you tell me everything you know about Colm and I’ll let you stay here for a while, while you figure your next move? Could even get you sleeping on your back in a day. Depends on what you spill”

“I’ll tell you, Mr.” Kieran agrees and Arthur nods, shifting on his feet as he glances behind him.

"All right, get on with it then, boy"

  


	3. Chapter 3

At six point cabin, Arthur lets Kieran save him again. He stays a moment on the ground, already knowing Colm isn't inside. Bill tells Kieran off, trying to get him to leave and Arthur listens "You fancy giving me a hand here, Morgan?" Bill asks as Kieran tries to get words in.

"You-you told me I could stay! I-I did everything you told me!" Kieran stutters as John leans against a tree and pulls out a cigarette. Bill snarls at Kieran and he flinches back "I-I saved your life, mister."

"That don't mean shit!" Bill snaps back as Arthur slowly collects himself from the ground, he rolls his shoulder.

"Colm will lose his mind over this! You might as well just kill me" Kieran says, almost hysterical at this point. Bill takes out his revolver and points it at Kieran who stumbles out of the gun's range.

"And I damn well might-" Arthur places a hand on Bill's gun and pushes it down, Bill stares angrily at Kieran and Arthur sighs. He plays a dialogue in his mind and decides on the best sentence he could say.

"All right then, You head back," He says tiredly and Kieran brightens, "I'll look around and see if there's anything worth the trouble here. Bill, tell Dutch the kid ain't worth killing." Bill snarls but nods and pushes Kieran towards the horses, John throws his cigarette and follows.

"You heading straight to camp after or?" He asks before leaving and Arthur shrugs.

"Probably, why, something you want?"

"Nah, I heard Hosea had something in mind though" John shrugs as he whistles for his horse "See you around," He says as he mounts his horse and Arthur doesn't respond, turning and taking what he can from the cabin.

 

Hosea does want to go hunting, like Arthur already accounted for. He made sure not to get attacked this time, telling Hosea to keep a lookout while he waits behind a boulder. The bear stumbles towards the bait and this time, Arthur takes it down with two shots of his rifle. Hosea congratulates him and gives him the map full of marked spots to where other animals . They trot back to camp safely and Arthur sits with Javier and Uncle who are singing a camp tune Arthur never really gave a mind to memorize. They laugh as Pearson and Tilly serve stew while Jack, Abigail and Mary-Beth dance around the campfire. While the scene is happening in front of his eyes, Arthur feels a sick sense of nostalgia, steely determination filling his chest as Lenny and John shout at the top of their lungs with the sweet strum of Javier's guitar. The night sets in cold and Abigail takes Jack to bed, slowly the gang head to take their stand on guard or sleep their reckless drinking away. There's not much to do around midnight.

Arthur doesn't feel sleepy, so he unhitches his horse and rides somewhere east of Valentine. He finds himself on top of a mountain, his horse was staring off, awaiting its rider while Arthur sketched his surroundings. He doesn't write as much, some things better left unsaid as they say, but his drawings had been dark; mostly the wolves he stumbles upon every so often. He feels distant, the camp, the situation, it feels like a mission; he struggles with letting himself get comfortable. Everything gives him a sickly sweet feeling, and more than once, the sight of Dutch and Micah together makes him nauseous. He interrupts them, every time he spots them together, but he knows there are times where he doesn't. 

Micah had gotten onto Arthur's nerves so many times in such a small amount of time, a fight almost buzzing every time they are present together. Hosea had voiced his distaste with Micah to Arthur, most of the camp had agreed that the slippery rat was more of a burden on their spirits than any failed mission. Dutch would act clueless, but Arthur would stand. 

It gets too cold for his liking, the sky wide and starry above him as he stands, patting his horse and mounting him. He feels lost, a plan always ruined as Micah prospers further into Dutch's head. He needs to talk to Hosea, needs someone to tell him what to do. The ride back was supposed to be calm, but he was wrong as always it seemed. He hears the hurrying hooves and angry neighs before he sees the group of men riding towards him, guns waving as they spot him. "We found him! Get the bastard." 

Arthur swears as he kicks Light into action, runs him fast north of where their camp is stationed. The last thing he would want is a group of bounty hunters knowing where the camp is, he leads them into the trees of Cumberland Forest and risks a glance behind him, their shouting had nearly died, focused now on catching him. Dead or Alive, he knows his bounty is high, doubts they'll choose the latter. He ducks as soon as he hears the bullets ring, Light running faster, now panicked as they dodge the bullets. 

Arthur swears list as he shoots blindly behind him, he hears a man swear and barely registers it before something pushes against his shoulder. For a moment, he thinks one of them managed to lassso him, lord knows the feeling isn't too unfamiliar. He struggles for his breath as his shoulder aches and he realizes bitterly that they landed a shot on him. He groans, maybe a little late in reaction and pulls on Light's reigns, telling him to take a hard right. They swerve and Arthur switches hands, he's shit at shooting with his left hand but it's a matter of survival now, as it seems to often be. He twists and aims, shooting two men in the chest before twisting back as his shoulder burns angrily at the angle. He breathes through his nose and gives Light a kick. Light whines as he speeds up and Arthur leans to his neck, patting the tense muscle of his shoulder and whispering reassurance into his ears. Another shot rings past and Arthur winces as his ears ring, he glances behind him and clenches his jaw. Damn sons of bitches seem to multiply, there's four behind him now, all aiming as he tries to zigzags his way through the forest. 

He reloads his gun, twisting again, shooting one man and scares the one beside him into slowing. He must have startled the horses because one ran into a tree while trying to run away from where the shot rang, he bites back a laugh at the sight of the man flying onto the ground screaming a swear. The last one stops, Arthur hears the beginning of a lecture before he gives a final kick to light as he loses sight of the men. He rides Emerald ranch, in case they decided to continue after him.

It's early when Arthur finally rides through camp, lightheaded from his untreated injury. Once on land, he realizes just how  _much_ he's light headed as he sways for a moment before heading straight to Miss Grimshaw. "Oh, Arthur you're back!" she greets warmly, Arthur huffs in response and her eyes dart to the bloodied hole in his shoulder "God! come, come sit!" she pushes him into a chair and helps him take off his jacket and unbutton his shirt. She doesn't speak as she pokes and prods Arthur's shoulder "Lucky you are, Mister Morgan, the bullet ran straight through" she mutters "I'll get Hosea to mix up some herbs, Old man wouldn't share his secrets if his life depended on it." She says as she straightens "Don't you go nowhere now, Mister Morgan" Arthur nods as she hurries away.

John spots him and stalks over, "Damn, what happened?" he asks as he sips at a bottle of brandy, he extends it to Arthur who takes a long gulp.

Bunch of shit shot bounty hunters that's what happened" 

Well, thank god for their lacks," John says as he takes the bottle back, "How your arm?"

Arthur raises it, he honest to god forgot that the ache in his forearm was temporary, that the night on the mountain hadn't gone as smoothly as last time, last lifetime. He chuckles, it's becoming a problem, always forgetting the change in time, that Lenny is still alive and often drinks with him. That the Grays and  Braithwaites are still undiscovered by the rest of the gang. "Aches and pains, can't be thankful enough they ain't made me uglier like you" 

"Oh fuck you, Arthur," John snaps back, no real malice behind it "You look pale, I'll tell Pearson to fix you something." Arthur opens his mouth to interject but John stops him "Don't be a goddamn hero, we need you to be as best as you can." 

"Sure," Arthur nods, spotting Hosea marching worriedly behind Miss Grimshaw.

"And-talk to Jack when you're done," John says awkwardly "He got worried when he saw you bleeding, kid loves you, you know."

"Yeah... Yeah, okay" Arthur says, eyes landing on the ground, "tell him I'm fine, I'll take him fishing tomorrow." He smiles up and John nods, turning and tipping his hat as he leaves towards Hosea and Miss Grimshaw. 

"How're you feeling, " Hosea asks calmly as he brings a washed cloth to Arthur's shoulder "got yourself into trouble again?" he jokes and Arthur huffs, smiling slightly as Hosea wipes away the excess blood "so, what happened?"

"Bounty hunters caught me sightseeing, weren't too happy about it" Arthur grunts as Hosea presses against the wound, he closes his eyes for a moment and hears Hosea shuffling around then something smears against his shoulder.

“This should numb the pain, should rest your shoulder as much as you can” Hosea says, Arthur opens his eyes and stares, Hosea gives him a knowing look “But seeing as you’re as stubborn as a mule, I’d suggest taking simple tasks, nothing hand to hand for at least a month. No bar fights, I mean.” Hosea says firmly and wraps Arthur’s shoulder “Don’t think I won’t tell Dutch, I know you’d let him run you dry before you speak.”

“Sure, Hosea” Arthur jerks his head and Hosea lets his head drop, fidgeting his hand “I promise I’ll take it as easy as I can.”

“I just worry about you, son,” Hosea admits “you take it hard on yourself, you never slow down and it has to catch up to you soon.”

“I know… I know, Hosea, but I need to help as much as I can,” Arthur sighs as he stands “You worry too much, Old man” Arthur tries to lighten the mood and Hosea takes the hint, sensing Arthur’s discomfort.

“I ain’t that old, Arthur”

“Sure, you keep telling yourself that, _Old man,_ ” They share a laugh and Arthur spots John and Abigail walking towards them, John holding a steaming stew while Abigail holds a steaming cup of coffee.

“Oh, Arthur!” Abigail speeds up, dotting over Arthur and hugging him around his neck, careful not to touch his shoulder, “I got so worried when Miss Grimshaw said you got shot,” She says heartily, it warms Arthur's heart. Abigail over the years grew more and more a sister in his eyes. He waves her worry off with a smile and she hands him his coffee “Do you need help dressing? I could stitch your shirt if you would like,” She offers and Arthur shifts on his feet, deciding it wouldn’t hurt.

“I wouldn’t want to burden you,” Arthur says as he raises his good shoulder.

“Oh, it would never be, Arthur! I owe you so much,” she beams and helps Arthur take off the rest of his shirt, shuffling away to where the girl’s tent is.

He turns to John who ushers Arthur towards the camp table, Jack sits there, playing with Mary-Beth and Tilly. He visibly lightens as Arthur walks towards the table, jumping up and running towards them, Arthur kneels as Jack squeaks “Uncle Arthur!”

“Hey, kid” Arthur says lightly as Jack hugs him briefly and bounces “You got a fishing rod I don’t know about?” He asks and Jack nods, pointing towards John’s tent.

“Pa and Hosea got me one!”

“That’s great, kid. You think you’re up to a fishing trip tomorrow?” Arthur grins as Jack shouts his approval. It’s great seeing him happy again, between the law chasing them, the mountains and the cold he got, life wasn’t treating the kid kindly. Arthur feels bad, he knows he would get John and his family out of here as soon as he could if it were in his hands. Their time was dying, he knew that even before he died and before everything went to shit. Jack deserves to go to school and live a snobby city life rather than get taught how to shoot a man and how to skin a deer.

Jack runs off to Abigail to tell her of his future trip and Arthur stands, feeling the sun burn at his naked torso and fetching a shirt from his tent quickly before returning to the table. Marston left the stew, still steaming and was talking with Hosea calmly.

  


  


It’s late evening when Lenny comes to Arthur with the offer of beer and a walk through Valentine and idiotically he agrees. Just one drink, they agree. But one drink turns into five, turns into ten and soon Arthur loses his track and ability to count. One moment Lenny is blabbering about how high he can jump from, the next, Arthur is climbing the roof of a building and jumping onto the patio, rolling on his side and not feeling the pain he knows he will suffer through tomorrow. Lenny jumps from the second floor of the bar and in what seems like a blink, they were outside kicking mud at each other and trying to get each other to fall on their asses. They laugh their lungs out at strangers going by their night and ride their horses in what _seems_ like the right direction but in reality; they have no way of knowing. Arthur at some point throws up after seeing Lenny do so, he has a pretty tough stomach but for some reason, puke made him queasy. He sobers up after eating some Oat Cakes and throwing a can of beans at Lenny, who stumbles backward and falls with a breathy laugh.

 


	4. Chapter 4

The downfall of Arthur's situation is his constant disbelief that the surrounding people are in fact alive. More than once, he'd get shocked at seeing Lenny and Hosea playing dominoes together. He also spaces out a lot, frozen in time as his mind races to catch up, confused between then and now. He's always mad too, so many things catching on his nerves, he doesn't know why he's so agitated at the tiniest things, well he knows  _why_ just not  _why_   _now_. He thinks maybe it's Valentine grating on his nerves.

Lenny comes in talking about Micah's imprisonment, Arthur makes sure he's not the one to get stuck with saving him. Dutch insist that's Arthur should save him, because he's his 'brother' and Arthur lashes out, John's future capture on the tip of his tongue but he held himself and shouts that Marston is his brother.

In the end, Hosea convinces Dutch that Arthur's shoulder should not be put under any type of strain and so Dutch angrily sends Bill and Javier to fetch him. They dance around each other for the rest of the week, Micah returns beaten and tattered with Bill and Javier run to the ground at the shootout that happens. They complain but Dutch doesn't hear as Miss Grimshaw treats their bruises. The last straw, or several straws, was Dutch's constant retorts, constant passive-aggressive jabs at Arthur, sending Marston, Micah, and Charles on tasks he'd typically take. Dutch ends up sending Arthur to work along with Kieran, he doesn't mind the kid it's just that shoveling horse shit isn't his usual stride. He's angry and grumpy and trapped, Hosea and the rest of the gang try to cheer him up but it doesn't work much. It's tense in the camp by the end of the second week of Micah's return.

Micah doesn't miss a chance to mock Arthur at his situation and many times John ends up taking Arthur to the side to play an improvised game of poker just to break them up. Arthur knows that this tension won't help, notices Micah talking to Dutch more frequently and Dutch's 'punishments' become more and more degrading. And Arthur moves from the Gang's Gunslinger to the Gang's chicken catcher and Egg Collector. It breaks him slowly.

it's nighttime, the gang is still up drinking and just lazing about, Arthur is shaving off a twig to work out his anger when Micah sits across him and starts his usual bullshit. Lenny tells him to move along but Micah calls him a slur and continues to mock Arthur. He sits silently, feeling the anger boil in his stomach and his face heat him. He puts the knife down, a precaution since he isn't in his full control now and can't be sure he'll hold himself back from slashing the bastard's neck open. The urges for Micah become urgent, John sensing that Micah is seconds away from getting punched right in the face "Micah, shut up!"

" _You_  shut it, Scarface, at least I'm earning my keep not working with an O'Driscoll boy. What does that make you, Arthur? A  _traitor_?"

That's it. Something uncurls in Arthur's chest and he sees red, metaphorically, he's on his feet like the ground is on fire and he hears an outcry of 'Shit!' before many hands reach to hold him. John says something about it not being worth it but he doesn't hear, he shrugs everyone off and grabs Micah by the collar, lifting him to his feet despite his shoulder opposing the notion. Micah splutters as Arthur pushes him back.

"You goddamn snake" he mutters "Don't think that,because you wrapped around Dutch's head you'll keep on living like a fucking snake," he growls, he distinctly hears Hosea asking what's the commotion about but Arthur's too warped in anger to pay a thought or realize that Dutch is going to be pissed at this. He throws the first punch, aiming for Micah's already healing black eye. Micah pushes against his arms and Arthur let's go, Micah slithers backwards and Arthur kicks at his side "You come here, all high and mighty like a goddamn lunatic!" He whispers, reaching to throw another punch when he feels an arm pull him back. Two arms, he turns, ready to give a piece of his mind but stops when John struggles against him.

"Arthur  _stop_ " He urges and Arthur shrugs him off, the other hand, Hosea, hovers over him.

"Son, calm down, please," Hosea soothes and Arthur shrugs them off, the step back, Bill and Charles pull Micah away but he sees Bill grinning as Micah stumbles.

"Arthur," John starts, hand in the air like he's handling a wild animal and in all honesty, Arthur feels like one.

"What is this madness?" Dutch yells, breaking the crowd, Micah slinking behind him like a toddler. Arthur let's out a huff "Have you completely lost your mind, Arthur?"

"Dutch-" Hosea tries but Dutch lays him no mind.

"You think you can go around punching your family-"

"He ain't my family!" Arthur roars, loud enough that he feels his throat tickle in the aftermath.

"Arthur!" Dutch gasps, looking positively furious.

"No, you don't get to Arthur me this time Dutch. Everyone here, even goddamn Kieran, are my family, but that slippery greasy little shit stain ain't never gonna be family!" Arthur points a finger at Micah who steps back, wary of another attack. Arthur is sweating now, the pressure of so many eyes on him, the burning anger heating his face and ears, the adrenaline of the fight (as one-sided as it was) and so many months of Micah killing the gang slowly. Dutch opens his mouth but Arthur doesn't listen, turning and pushing John away as he stomps to his horse, impulsively deciding that he needs to leave camp.

He rides quick and brutal towards Valentine, he'll have to give Light some love tomorrow in compensation. He rents a room, spends the night drawing and writing his thoughts down. He spends three nights, hunting, gambling and stumbling upon O'Driscolls and shooting them. It's the end of the week when Arthur starts missing his clothes but doesn't waver. He buys a vest and shirt and washes the clothes he wore, buys another three days from the hotel clerk and goes to ride while it's still light outside.

He knows eventually he needs to go back, it's his home, after all, he's not John, but he needs these days off. He meets Mary by coincidence, she tells him that she sent him a letter and she thought he'd never come and Arthur tells her what happened and she glows, thinking he quit the gang for good. He lets that dream die quickly, asks her what she sent for to get it over with and she sends him after her brother. Arthur takes the ride up the hills quickly and the feeling of the wind at his back makes him relax, light's muscles moving under his thighs and the quick move of the scenery around him, he unwinds and finally feels the knot inside his chest release and he breathes deep.

He rides back, gives Mary her brother and leaves to the hotel. Unsurprisingly he finds John and Hosea there, he halts as they spot him and begrudgingly steps into the hotel, the duo trailing behind him. "Dutch is losing it," John says quietly, Arthur closes the door behind them as they take a seat.

"No shit"

"Arthur he needs you," Hosea explains, reaching for Arthur "You don't understand how devastated he is at your leave Arthur, you saw how he was after John left, now imagine how he feels about you leaving,"

"He has Micah to replace me, seems like he likes the cow fucker." Arthur knows he sounds like a pissy kid, whining about daddy not liking him but he can regret that later, for now, he can feel sick satisfaction fill him at the news that Dutch is feeling his loss.

"Arthur, you know Micah can never hold a candle to how precious you are to Dutch. You're like his son," Hosea pleads "Just talk to him, he's been worked up about you leaving he's losing his nerve, he needs you back,"

"Arthur, he gave Micah horse duty after he talked shit about you. He's just as angry as you are, please, if not for Dutch then for the rest of us" John stands and nears Arthur who crosses his arm moodily "The girls are distraught, me and Hosea, we try to tell them that everything is fine but they feel insecure without you having our backs"

"Ain't no one said I don't have your back," Arthur responds gruffly "But fine, I'll come back," Hosea and John share a smile "But, if Micah so much as breaths towards me, I'm shooting the bastard," Arthur warns as he grabs his clothes and rolls them into his satchel.

The camp greets him with open arms, but he's buzzing with nervous energy as he passes Dutch's tent, Pearson and Bill clap him on the back and the girls flock around him, Jack hugs him tight. He spots Micah in the corner watching like a fox as Arthur sits around the campfire and greets Charles and Lenny who pass him a bottle of brandy. He lives the moment, feeling fresh after breaking the chain of repetition that he suffered through for so long. They all cheer to Javier as he brings out his guitar and starts playing, Arthur doesn't sing, joins in with a few words here and there, but enjoys the celebration he feels he doesn't deserve. They break off at dawn and everyone bids their goodbyes, Arthur sleeps peacefully for the first time in a month, the sound of crickets and passing wind at his ear.

Next morning he wakes up to the sound of silence, he realizes that it's early morning, probably barely got two hours of sleep. He searches for the reason of his awakening and feels the dip of his bed, he snatches his pistol from under his pillow and points it at where the weight is. Dutch laughs as he pushes the gun away, Arthur rubs at his eyes, no longer half asleep. He supposed that Dutch would lecture him one day and sooner is better than later. He cannot come up with a reason for it to be so early in the morning. 

"What you want?" Arthur as he drops his feet to the ground and rolls his shoulders, Dutch smiles faintly and takes hold of Arthur's shoulder, squeezing him briefly. Arthur squints, waiting for Dutch to say something, anything, but the man just stares at him as if he's as lost for words as Arthur is. 

"Son, You've been... by my side for around twenty years now..." Dutch he says slowly "I can not begin to tell you how much you mean to me, you are my family; one of the closest to my heart." Arthur hums, amused but keeps quiet, he can't see where the speech is going but he awaits the eventual turn "I don't want to lose you over a-a petty dispute between you and Micah,"

"I wouldn't call it petty, Dutch," Arthur persists and Dutch breathes, spent by the ongoing feud "I know you don't see it now, but you will. I know you like him, I don't see why but I know you do. You don't see him like the rest of us do and I will show you his true colors soon. I promise," 

"Whatever you say, Arthur,"

"Just have some _faith_ , Dutch," Arthur snides sarcastically and Dutch laughs under his breath "Just-Just know I'll never do something to hurt you, You're my family-this gang it's... it's everything I know, everything I  _love_  and I'll never betray  _you_ " 

"I know, Arthur. You are one of my most trusted," Dutch says firmly, nodding his head slightly as Arthur lets his head drop.  _Funny_ , he thinks, if they go down the same path, Dutch would change that all in a couple of months. "I think we're okay, aren't we?"

"We will be," Arthur reassures wholeheartedly and Dutch stands, "Dutch," Arthur says suddenly as he remembers "What would happen if,  _god_   _forbid_ , the Pinkerton Agent that's following us dies?" he asks and Dutch furrows his eyebrows, shifting as he crosses his arms.

"Why do you ask?" Dutch says, not giving a chance for Arthur to respond before he answers "It would be... unfortunate, I think it would buy us some time; but another one will take our case quickly after." 

"So if for some unknown reason, he ends up with a bullet between his eyes-"

"We'd have a few weeks of peace as we travel away," Dutch fixes Arthur a stare as he continues "I would hope that I know before the Agent dies, wouldn't want any surprises," 

"Sure," Arthur nods "I'd give it a week or two before the news arrives," 

"Very well, I look forward to getting the news," Dutch smiles, the breaching sun casting a shadow over his face and Arthur almost shudders at the predatory glint in Dutch's eyes. He forgets that it's not aimed at him. "I hope no one gets caught in the crossfire," He says and quickly follows it with "be careful, son"

“Sure, Dutch,” Arthur salutes sarcastically as Dutch leaves.

  

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

He is sick. 

In a metaphorical and physical sense. 

It starts with sweating, sniffling, and headaches that are present more than they are not. He doesn't speak much about it though he tries to contain the sickness to himself and not spread it. The only visible signs are his increased grumpiness and abrupt sneezing. He doesn't like, even more, when he sneezes mid fight and misses a shot, safe to say he almost died right then and there. He goes to rob a stagecoach with Bill and Karen only to find that in this timeline; the stagecoach had almost thrice the security. Arthur called for them to fold and Bill ended up with a graze on his ankle but nothing more thankfully. 

All in all,  it wasn't a good week, and it turned sourer when Dutch tells him about the supposed treaty between him and Colm. This time, he knows what's coming and so he agrees, shares a stink eye with Micah and rides with Dutch as he monologues about how great this could be for them. Peace finally between the two most wanted gangs around.  He takes his scoped rifle and his regular Carbine rifle as he breaks off from the duo and heads to the mountain. He keeps checking on Dutch and Micah every few seconds but checks behind him frequently; he waits and waits, almost decides that maybe in this timeline Colm isn't as much of an asshole. 

As fate would seem to have it, right after that thought crossed his mind and Arthur puts down his scope, he hears the familiar rumbling of horse hooves. His first thought is that someone will try to run him over, but that's shot down as soon as he sees the ten horses racing towards him. Arthur panics, not that he'll ever admit it and signals Dutch by shooting two rounds in the air. He can see more horses trailing down the mountain towards the meeting point of Colm and Dutch, but he doesn't have much time to check if they got the message as he whistles for his horse and runs. His horse catches up and he can hear the men call out for him. 

_Pinkertons_ , he thinks, Colm must've not known about this. He glances down and spots Dutch and Micah on their own horses running away separately, chased by their own crowd of lawmen. Colm and his second hand are also getting chased and so Arthur realizes that this is, in fact, a pure coincidence. Colm wouldn't risk getting caught for Dutch and Arthur to get arrested. 

Arthur rides west towards Grizzlies, he couldn't have gotten a few miles away before his horse crumpled with a desperate whine, Arthur is thrown to the side, his shoulder screams in protest as gets slammed on the ground but he collects himself, arm numb and paralyzed for a moment. He kneels beside his horse, realizing a second too late that it isn't stunned, it's shot dead "No," Arthur whispers, anger, fear, panic rising up his throat "No, not you, shit. I'm so sorry" Arthur stands, a shot rings above him and his hat flys off. He stands, unable to decide how he can play this. He has no way out, no cliff to jump off of into a river, no horse to ride away on. He's surrounded and can only tuck his guns away on Light's saddle before they throw a right rope around him, tugging him harshly to the ground.

He lost.

  

  

 Dutch rides back into camp before nightfall, just having lost the lawmen on his trail. Micah is already in camp, but Arthur has not yet returned. He doesn't let it grate him too much, but he can't help but check for his return hourly. From what he'd seen, Arthur had gotten the short straw as he always seems to get, there were no less than ten lawmen on his trail as he left. He's thankful that he warned them before he left but angry he didn't immediately run for his life. He doesn't indulge Molly in her usual berates against him and instead sits with Hosea as he rants about the failed peace treaty.

He had shouted at Colm that they had set him up, but the look on Colm's face and his response made him grow an inkling he was just as oblivious as Dutch was, and so he rode east and circled around emerald ranch before he shot the remaining two lawmen on him and returned through an extended route. Hosea tells him he's happy that no-one got killed in the process, Dutch didn't have the heart to point out that Arthur hadn't returned yet. But by how Hosea eyes the horses, Dutch reckons they feel the same. 

 

Dutch waits can feel everyone look at him expectantly as he walks around camp. Arthur has not returned, yet and even Hosea tries to hint about what could have happened. "Maybe he's lying low," Lenny offers but John shakes his head.

"Arthur always comes back to make sure the rest returned, he doesn't disappear after the camp could be compromised," John cuts in and Lenny sighs, "Maybe we should search for him, he could be in cornered somewhere, or worse," John suggests, looking between Hosea and Dutch.

"I volunteer to join if we initiate a search," Charles says, Lenny and Bill agree, but Dutch doesn't speak, he tosses a coin between his fingers anxiously and taps his feet against the ground. They should search for him, they should, but they don't know where they should start. If Arthur is hurt somewhere, they need to move before it's too late, but if he's hiding...

He can't decide between the safety of his camp, or going with his gut and possibly saving his son. He looks up, they already formed a group, a mighty one at that. John, Bill, Charles, Lenny, and even Javier said he'd join. He worries his bottom lip and drops his head.

"Yes, yes... a search is a good idea," Dutch mumbles, "Find him, and bring him home," Dutch completes as he stares at John, who nods once and is instantly on his feet.

 

After the group headed out, Dutch paces quietly around his tent, Hosea sits silently and tries to work out positive possibilities about Arthur's absence. He doesn't entertain the thought that the search party could come back with a corpse, he won't lose Arthur. He's known the kid since he was still talking soft and couldn't hold a rifle straight. He already almost lost Arthur, the meaningless dispute that drove him away from camp for a week, it almost broke Dutch down. Arthur had always been a fixture in camp, maybe he'd skip a night or two and sleep in the wild, but that hadn't been the case; Dutch had driven him out. And now Arthur has been driven away by Pinkertons. 

Pearson makes tea and coffee and tries to calm everyone's nerves, he himself silently worries. Mary-Beth reads something she wrote to distract the camp as Tilly and Karen run around Valentine trying to catch wind of anything. 

A few hours pass and the sound of hooves push Dutch out of his tent, awaiting Arthur's remarks, maybe a sarcastic comment. All he receives is John holding Arthur's hat, a bullet through the side, and Charles carrying his saddle. Miss Grimshaw wails, and Mary-Beth is stricken silent as Hosea and Dutch get the rundown of what they'd found. 

"We found light shot dead, west of Cumberland. Arthur's pistols are there," Charles points out, Dutch clears his throat and feels a flicker of hope rise within him. Arthur manually put his pistols in his saddle, Arthur could be alive. Hosea lightens up and examines the saddle, searching for clues.

"What if they got him?" John asks "Maybe they will put him on trial," John turns to Dutch "Do you think they have him in Blackwater?" 

"Then we get him back," 

 

Tilly and Karen run into camp, distraught and upset as they break off; Tilly heads for Dutch while Karen grabs Hosea away from the campfire "They got him!" Tilly cried loudly, "They're going to hang him tomorrow!" She continues as she shoves a newspaper in Dutch's hands. Hosea snatches it, scans rapidly, eyes darting up and down. There's a picture of Arthur on the front page, Dutch can see, he peers over Hosea's shoulder anxiously.

> _**Dangerous Outlaw, Arthur Morgan has been caught:** _
> 
> _**After a fruitless hunt for the malicious Van Der Linde Gang's leader, Dutch Van Der Linde; Agent Andrew Milton lead a search for the Gang's right hand man and one of the most wanted murderers among the Gang. Arthur Morgan was captured on Wednesday after a chase occured around Cumberland forest, Agent Milton followed a lead stating that Dutch Van Der Linde and Arthur Morgan would be present at noon. The lead remains unnamed.** _
> 
> _**Arthur Morgan is sentenced to an immediate death by hanging, the event will take place in Blackwater.** _
> 
> _**More to be reported.** _

 

Dutch stares in disbelief, Hosea drops the paper on turns to Dutch "We have to get him back," Hosea says, trying to mask his anger "We need to get there, we don't know when... they might be up to it right this second," Hosea looks around, John, Charles, Bill, and Lenny had flocked, reading the crumpled newspaper.

"Dutch, they're going to kill him!" John growls "they have him, what's our plan, Dutch."

"We need to get to Blackwater," Bill says as he, Lenny and John mount their horses, "Dutch, give us the word. What do we do?"

"You three head out to Blackwater, scout the place and _don't get caught"_ Dutchorders and they nod, immediately setting off, "Miss Grimshaw, Mister Pearson, settle the camp down," Dutch breaths as he tries to calm down, he heads into his tent, followed by Hosea "We head out in an hour, wait until the execution and ambush them, we need... we need every gun we got." Dutch paces, trying to form a scenario in his mind "We cut them off before they hang him, or-or intercept them while they move him to the execution stand."

"We need as many riders as we can gather," Hosea repeats, "I'll ride with you, and I'll send Karen to find Micah," 

"Mister Van Der Linde!" Kieran shouts from outside "I want to help, Mister Morgan I heard, I want to fight with you," 

"Boy-" Dutch starts but pauses as he scans the young man, he knows that Kieran likes Arthur the best between them, since he treated him kindly while they were holding him hostage "Go to Miss Grimshaw, she'll give you good guns," He motions for Kieran to leave.

"I want to join too," Mrs. Adler says fiercely, she has a rusted pistol in her hand "Let me ride with you, Dutch," 

"Miss Adler, this ain't a sunset ride," Dutch snaps harshly, walking past her as he checks his guns, Mrs. Adler follows angrily.

"I know, I know how to shoot a gun, and Arthur has been nothing but kind to me, I want to help, not sit here in my own worry while you boys do all the work!" She argues, voice getting louder, Dutch is ready to shout back, the stress of the month breaking down his nerves but Hosea places a hand over his shoulder and steps between them.

"Miss Adler can ride Arthur back after we break him free, lord knows what they did to him," He reasons and Dutch glances at Mrs. Adler, and agrees begrudgingly, "Now, Miss Adler, go get ready with Kieran,"

 

 

 

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

Arthur is pushed and pulled, hogtied and thrown on the back of a horse like a shot deer. He swears and insults them, earning him beautiful bruises along his face. His ribs ache under the constant jolt of the horse, at one point he gets whipped in the face by the horse's tail.

He hopes that Dutch made it back, the camp can’t lose two men, especially Dutch, in this state. They reach Blackwater as night shadows over them and Arthur is pushed to the ground, groaning as his shoulder doesn’t seem to catch a break. “Come on,” one of the men commands as Arthur gets pulled by his tied hands, his shoulder clicks and Arthur suppresses a shout as fire seeps into his blood. It feels like he’s going to blow out a vein in his shoulder.

They have no mercy on him, drag and push him towards Blackwater’s jail. “Get the boys to secure the place,” The man who seems in charge barks at a young-looking officer “Wouldn’t want him to get out,”

“Why would I escape your hospitalities,” Arthur retorts, earning a punch in the gut and he doubles over, laughing at his situation “So kind of you,” he wheezes as the officer pulls on his shoulder and his laughter turns into a surprised gasp at the pain in his shoulder.

“Seems to be you’re incapable of fighting, that shoulder sure looks broke,” The officer says smugly and Arthur manages to meet his eyes.

“Would you like to test that out, boy?” Arthur grits and the officer looks taken back, the look washes away quickly as Arthur gets pushed inside.

 

 

He ends up tied to a chair under three different ropes, three guards watch over him as Agents Milton and Ross get fetched. He ends up shit talking the guards enough to get hit in the face with a barrel of a rifle.

“Ah, Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van Der Linde’s most trusted associate...” Agent Ross says as he enters the cell, Arthur smiles thinly as Ross looks towards Agent Milton “Quite the case, wanted for many, many awful deeds. Murder, theft, arson, armed robbery, assault, may I go on?”

“Sure, I ain’t got nowhere to go,” Arthur snides, wriggles his arms in emphasis. Agent Ross looks down at Arthur, sizes him up before bending to be on his level.

“Where is Dutch Van Der Linde, Arthur,” He asks, eyes cold as they stare at Arthur’s own “I can guarantee you your life, in exchange for information,”

“With all due respect, Agent Ross,” _which is none_ Arthur completes in his mind, he leans in as if he’s about to say something important “I ain’t no snitch,” he whispers as if it’s a secret, “I’d swing for Dutch, gladly!” It’s not even a lie, even after all he’d suffered because of Dutch and his so-called plans, he can not be himself to hate the man. Even after watching him leave him to die, alone. He can only feel hate towards Micah, he’s the one that snaked into Dutch’s degrading sanity.

“You really are a fool,” Ross says, disappointed. Arthur smiles, as sickly sweet as he can.

“I’m inclined to agree,”

“You wouldn’t save yourself in the face of death for that silver tonged savage?” Arthur leans back in his chair, nodding once as if to say ‘what can I do?’ “You’re a lost cause, Mister Morgan,”

“Maybe,” Arthur huffs, watching and maintaining eye-contact as Ross stands.

“So it seems,” Ross says disapprovingly “Hang him, he’s better off dead,” Ross orders, Milton smirks behind him as an officer runs off “spread the news, I want your _friends_ to know,”

“Why so they can kill you and you’re… silent friend over there?” Arthur counters and a sick smile spread over Ross’s face, it sends warning signs all over and dread fills Arthur “Even if they know, they-they won’t come for me,”

“Oh, but they will, Mister Morgan. You can’t be so blunt that you can’t see your own importance?”

“They wouldn’t risk getting killed to get me back!” Arthur snarls as worry creeps in as he silently prays that none of them are stupid enough to barge into Blackwater just to get him back.

“We’ll see, Mister Morgan, all in due time, for now; I have business to settle with your other associate,” Ross says smugly as Arthur blinks in confusion “Sean MacGuire of course, you didn’t know?”

Arthur turns cold, he feels his mind race as he beats himself up for not saving Sean before any of this shit happened “You leave the damn kid alone,” Arthur says dangerously, struggling against his restraints, a feeble act of intimidation as Arthur winces right after.

“Have fun, Mister Morgan, I’ll put in a word for you with the guards,” Ross turns, leaving Arthur throwing insults and threats at his wake. Sean is here, with him, Arthur cannot save him.

 

 

Morning breaks, and with it, Arthur feels himself start to drift. During the hours after Ross and Milton’s visit, Ross’s word went above and beyond as Arthur now sports many bruises and new techniques in his torture book. The rattling of the jail’s door jerks him from his peaceful state “Rise and shine,” an officer sneers.

“Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Arthur replies tiredly, head swaying to the side as he tries to dodge the light from the barred window.

“Got a confirmation for your hanging, going to do it right here, in front of all the people of Blackwater," The officer informs and Arthur hums, “How does it feel, being hated so much? Knowing you’re going to die alone?”

“Like having a beer after a long day,” Arthur remarks, smiling as much as he can through his swollen lips. That earns him a punch that snaps his head to the side and he lets out a groan on the impact. “Damn, my nephew hits harder than you and he’s all of four years old!” Arthur teases, laughing humorlessly as another punch lands on his face. This was his only way of defense, agitate his enemy till either Arthur blacks out or gets left alone.

Seems like the former is more in favor. 

"You've got a very punchable face, cowboy," the officer says and Arthur spits out blood from his torn lip. He wheezes a laugh, breathless as his head spins.

"When I get out of here, you ain't gonna have much of a face left,  _partner_ " 

"Oh," The officer laughs, punching Arthur in the chest. He gasps as air is forced out of his lungs and he feels even more dizzy, coughing as he forces air into his lungs "You make this more and more fun every time you speak," 

Arthur shuts up, doesn't have enough air or energy to keep on fighting. He forces one lungful of air in and it comes out in a series of broken coughs, almost reminds him of when he was sick, makes him confused for a moment as he tries to remember if he met Thomas Downs a second time. He must have blacked out as he's rudely awoken by a slap on the face, he sputters and tries to reach of his gun, only successfully burning his wrists even more.  

"Come on, cowboy," 

"What now?" Arthur groans as the ropes around him fall, he would run, if he didn't feel like all his limbs got torn then stitched together.

"It's your time, Morgan," the officer says, amused "We'll all see you swing,"

"Oh well, how wonderful," Arthur says as he's hauled, they tie his hands behind his back. He looks on either side of him and sees the two officers holding rifles tensely "What, you fellers think I'm going to pull a pistol out of my ass or something?" He asks sarcastically and gets punched in the shoulder, he whines and rolls his eyes "can't take a joke,"

 

 

 

 


	7. Chapter 7

Hosea tries his best to keep the men in line, but Dutch being Dutch hatches the most violent and dramatic plan. Charles takes sniper duty as Dutch and the others clean their guns and wait for their moment. The plan is to shoot Arthur down and get Lenny to drive him into safety, then the gang will split up and return to camp after everything cools down. Not perfect, but it'll do, Hosea knows they can execute the plan but doesn't know if Lenny will ride back with a breathing body, doesn't know if they'll come back whole. 

Night falls over them and with it John starts to get finicky with the plan.

"What if they shoot him before we get to him?" He asks and Dutch looks towards Blackwater, unamused by the inquiry but Hosea places a hand over John's shoulder and squeezes.

"We won't let that happen," he assures confidently, despite how he feels about the situation "that Kieran boy and Miss Adler? They're undercover right now, it anyone tries to pull a trigger on Arthur, they'll have a bullet in their head before they can ask god for forgiveness," Hosea gives another squeeze "I know you're worried, John,"

"He's my brother, Hosea, It's killing me that I wasn't there to help him," John growls, eyes lighting up with fire "He doesn't deserve this, god knows that they're doing to him in there while-while we're just-" John broke off, anger leaking into his expression as he looks away from Hosea. He knows, understands the feeling of helplessness that they're all struggling with. He understands that to John, Arthur is next to untouchable, he was just a kid when he first came and Arthur had begrudgingly mothered him alongside Hosea and Dutch, Arthur was the one who'd bring him food and check if he's doing alright while the man himself had bruises the size of a boar. In some unknown way, Arthur held the gang together tightly, more than Dutch and Hosea had. 

"I know, son, it's killing me too." He coaxes instead of voicing his doubts, "But that's history now,we can't do nothing about it, what we can do is get him home, in one piece." John nods in agreement, and Hosea drops his hand "He's going to be alright, John, we all know that Arthur is a tough one,"

"Yeah, yeah I know," John agrees, pressing the meat of his hands against his eyes, "Thanks, Hosea, I just-" John breaks off again, looking desperately at Hosea, Hosea nods in understanding and smiles reassuringly. 

"Has anyone seen Micah?" Dutch asks loudly, breaking the atmosphere into a tense silence as John rolls his eyes.

"No, coward's probably out there getting drunk off his ass, a toast to Arthur's hanging," John says fiercely, "Should've never got that snake along with us, I don't trust him helping Arthur out of this either" 

"John-" Dutch starts before Charles cuts him off.

"They're preparing the scaffold," Charles announces, backing from the rifle "I'd give it a few hours before they bring him out" 

"Alright, boys, does everyone know what their job is." They nod and Dutch leans, satisfied "Check your guns, stay alert, they might send lookouts." 

 

"Everyone, wake up!" Dutch hisses, Bill and Lenny, who were asleep beside each other leaning on a rock, wake up and groggily stand.

"They're starting the speech," Charles informs as Lenny, Bill, John, Hosea, and Dutch mount their horses "I'd give it five minutes, max,"

"Kieran and Miss Adler?"

"In the crowd, but we've got trouble," Charles sighs as he pushes himself to his knees "O'Driscolls, they're all over the place," 

"Shit," Dutch paces for a second, dropping to peer through the rifle's scope, he sighs and turns to the men waiting for his order "Bill, John, you're going to handle the O'Driscolls, I counted three but there could be more or them, shoot them until non is left or they're leaving," He orders as he collects himself from the ground, "Lenny, Javier, you'll handle the officers with me, while Hosea gets Arthur. We don't want anything or anyone interrupting them," Lenny and Javier nod, scrambling to get their horses ready as the mount "Come on, men, let's get my son back," 

 

 

Walking was... hard, he doesn't know what they gave him, maybe it's the stress and beatings working their magic but he reckons they gave him something. He doesn't know, all he knows is that the sun is too bright, his ear is ringing at the boos and gasps as he walks towards a noose with his name written on it. He finds himself peaceful against the nearing prospect of his death, sure some part of him screams at the humiliation but that part is numbed as he lacks any emotion. It feels odd, but he'd rather not be panicked at the last moments of his life. 

He feels every pair of eyes on him, he climbs the stairs and doesn't give them a fuss as they tighten the noose around his neck, all while some superior officer talks about the purging of America from all its savages, he pays half a mind, hears how awfully spoken of his name is. He can feel the weight of the noose, almost too tight as he draws in quick breaths that itch his neck. He tests the bonds around his arms and winces as spikes of pain shoot from his wrists. 

"Arthur Morgan," the officer says, looking Arthur in the eyes, "May God have mercy on you," 

Mercy, Arthur thinks bitterly, he never had a taste of it. Doesn't think that God will spare him a sip. 

He can feel the ground fall from under him, the beginning of his fall, he expects everything to turn to black, expects to wake up on the mountains again, but he doesn’t. He falls, and keeps falling till he crashes onto the ground with a thud.

There is chaos around him, officers shouting as horses ride in and people fall to the ground bloody. Arthur knows it’s Dutch and the boys, spots Kieran and Sadie run towards him, he quickly waves them off “Sean, they’ve-they’ve got Sean!” he screams in hopes they’d understand, Dutch rides towards him and shoots an officer aiming for Kieran.

“What’s the hold up!” He asks as he scans over Arthur “Arthur, come on,” He urges, shooting another two officers.

“They’ve got Sean!” He repeats, allowing Kieran to help him to his feet. Hosea rides, his revolver in hand “We have to get him, Dutch,” Arthur slurs his words, vision blurring “God, they- they did something to me,” He says as Kieran struggles to haul him onto Hosea’s horse. 

“Bill! Javier!” Dutch yells “We’ll get him, Arthur,” Dutch says, turning to Hosea “Get him safe, get the camp packing, we leave as soon as we return,” 

Hosea kicks off and Arthur hears many shout at his leave, many shots fall onto the sand around him and he protectively tries to cover Hosea’s back with his own body, over the unknown dizziness in his mind he feels himself worry about the man getting shot again. A part of him evilly replaying Hosea falling onto the ground and bleeding out over and over in his mind. 

“Keep breathing, Arthur,” Hosea says soothingly, he feels himself relax, almost too much, as the shouts, screams and gunshots fade into horse hooves stomping against ground.


	8. Chapter 8

"Still with me?" Hosea asks, slowing as they pass Valentine and veer right, Arthur grunts in response, head leaning heavily against Hosea's back. His eyes closed a while ago and he can't find it in himself to open them, he's barely still awake "Just hang on, We're here, alright?"   
  
"Sure," Arthur manages, sounding drunk as the word drags. Hosea reaches a hand behind him and takes hold of Arthur's hand "You'll be alright, Arthur," Hosea assures as the sound of hooves fade and Arthur realizes that he can't reply, already drowning in the silence as he drifts into sleep.  


   
  
Hosea can feel it as Arthur leans more and more into his back, swaying dangerously and he has to slow so he doesn't fall off. He hopes that Arthur heard him, hopes that his boy knows he's safe now.   
  
The camp is on its feet as soon as Hosea's horse comes into view, Uncle left his post as a guard and helps Hosea get Arthur down. "Pearson!" Molly shouts and the cook is by Hosea's side instantly along with Swanson as they grab Arthur and lift him.  
  
"Easy on his shoulder," Hosea orders calmly, as calm as he can. He didn't have a chance to see what exactly was Arthur's shape but now, he can see that damage is definitely there. It squeezes at his heart but he keeps a calm face, he has the situation under control.   
  
"Miss Grimshaw, I need you to help me patch him up, Pearson, Uncle, Swanson, and girls get packing, we can't stay here much. Tilly," Hosea catches her before she leaves "Sean is coming back, get something ready so we can tend to him when Kieran brings him back,"   
  
"Okay, Hosea, is-is Arthur?"  
  
"He'll be fine," he says firmly, putting every ounce of conviction behind his words.   
  
"Mister Matthews!" Grimshaw beckons, Hosea gives a nod to Tilly as she hurries off to the medicine wagon.   
  
"What's wrong," Hosea asks, worry seeping into his voice as he bends beside Arthur's bed.  
  
"His shoulder, It's dislocated, probably but I need your help getting it back," She ushers him as she pushes Arthur into a sitting position. He nods, wincing as he notices that it's badly infected, irritated red and leaking sickeningly yellow puss, it bends unnaturally towards his collarbone. That would heal in a long long time, and Arthur would fight tooth an nail to keep on working. He hopes that Arthur has enough sense to realize that gunfights won’t be in his near future, Hosea and Dutch won’t let him damage his arm irreversibly like that.

 

He puts a gentle hand around Arthur's arm and another on the shoulder.   
  
"Alright, On three you push forward, gently, Miss Grimshaw" Hosea says, looking at Miss Grimshaw as she nods "Alright, One, two, three," Hosea pushes gently as Miss Grimshaw puts her weight into doing the same, Hosea tries to massage the muscles without aggregating the gunshot wound as Grimshaw leans back away then forward again.

 

Hosea can see as the shoulder fit back as Arthur groans in his sleep, the flexing around his wound probably hurting him. Hosea shushes him, whispering reassurance as Arthur becomes limp again between Miss Grimshaw's arms. One less problem to fix, Hosea thinks optimistically. All they have to do is dress the wound, clean it before it turns even more septic and put up the possibility of amputation. Hosea internally shudders at the thought, that would destroy Arthur. Man can barely put through resting for two days straight, the possibility of never shooting a gun again? He’d rather die.   
  
"He's feverish," Grimshaw notes, Hosea sighs as he stands

 

"I'll get some towels and water, if anything happens, give a shout," Hosea calls over his shoulder as he walks to the Medicine cabin.   
  


 

When the men start to arrive, the camp is almost done with packing. Arthur shows no sign of waking up, exhausted and no one tries to disturb him.

 

They prep a wagon to carry Arthur as they move, Tilly and Pearson will be with him. Sean’s arrival unscathed lifts the spirit of the camp. Sean stays respectful, as much as he can, and quiet as they celebrate briefly. He wastes no time, helping in packing Arthur’s belongings and tent. All that is left is to move the man himself.

 

Dutch and Hosea take responsibility. They trust their men, of course, but there's a slim possibility of further injuries and they don’t want to risk it. Dutch and Hosea push Arthur to his feet, “Alright, John, is the wagon ready?” Dutch asks, easing an arm around Arthur’s waist to hoist him.

 

“Yeah, yeah, come on,” John ushers, hovering behind them as they shuffle to the wagon. Arthur rises, blinking as he moves his feet automatically.

 

“Dutch?” Arthur asks weakly, and Dutch puts his free arm to Arthur’s chest.

 

“You’re safe, Arthur,”

 

“Sean? They’ve got-” Arthur breaks into a cough, Hosea and Dutch pause, letting Arthur regain his breath. Hosea would say Arthur’s a fool for thinking about other people while he’s half dead himself, but it sends a spark of affection at Arthur's care. Under all the tough and grumpy attitude, Arthur hides a heart of gold. Everyone jokes about it, but respect that Arthur would knock them out if anyone called him soft. Hosea waves Abigail and Jack, giving John a stare to leave.

 

“We got him, Arthur, he’s safe,” Arthur nods, trying to push himself straight, wincing as he straightens his back, Hosea doesn’t let go, but loosens a bit, understanding Arthur's need to walk on his own.

 

“How’re you feeling?” Dutch asks, giving Arthur room to breathe as he steps back, leaving Arthur to walk slowly to the wagon on his own.

 

“Peachy,” Arthur answers gruffly, rolling his shoulder and grimacing “Where we going?” he asks as Hosea leaves Arthur to walk, hovering around him.

 

“We don’t know yet, We sent Charles up ahead,”

 

“I know a place,” Arthur says, leaning against the wagon, “It’s southwest of Saint-Denis, little abandoned manor, filled with some drunk crazies,” Arthur glances to Hosea and then Dutch, “Easy enough to pick off,”

 

“That’s great,” Dutch grins, shouting over for John and Javier, Arthur describes the route as best as he can, warning against the men squatting there and telling them the rundown on what the pace looks like.

 

 

 

 

The wagon ride was...fussy, Arthur couldn’t answer a question before another got asked. He got asked around a hundred times if he’s feeling okay and he was sure he was about to shoot Pearson after the tenth offering of beans. He knows they’re just worried about him, but he’s doing fine, other than his cough and fever, he can barely feel his shoulder which is a blessing and whatever kind of tranquilizer they gave him is fading, the world isn’t even blurry anymore.

 

Hosea sends Lenny to check on him twice every hour, and Arthur keeps his wits to himself and says he’s doing good, he drinks way more water than he usually does and on the eleventh offering of beans, Arthur accepts halfway to shut Pearson up and the other half was because he’s actually starving.

 

“We’re here!” Dutch announces happily and the wagon stops, Arthur begins to push himself out but Pearson and Tilly stop him.

 

“Oh, come on,” Arthur grumbles as Pearson and Tilly help him out, “I’m not a maiden, goddamn it,”

 

“Sorry, Morgan,” Pearson says amusingly “Don’t want you to fall on your pretty face,” Tilly giggles and Arthur shrugs off their hands, stretching his arms slowly, testing out how mobile his shoulder is.

 

“Arthur!” Sean says cheerily, “How’re you doing?” he asks, and Arthur grins, letting the Irish man hug him.

 

“I’m good, how are you?”

 

“Oh I’m strong as a bull, a couple of days under their hands ain’t done nothing to me, you know how I am,” Sean laughs and Arthur joins, “I see they didn’t give you a lavish experience, eh?”

 

“Nah, guess they didn’t like me much,” Arthur says lightly “I’m sure someday I might give them a piece of my mind,”

 

“Yeah!” Sean cheers “How about a drink while the others set up? I know Lenny and Bill are at each other's throats and a night out would do good for the boys,”

 

“Sure, but I ain’t gone help if you decide to get yourself into a fight,”

 

“Oh I know Arthur, It’s just one drink, ain’t nothing gone happen,” Sean waves for Lenny and Bill “Ay! Come on, boys, we’re heading into town,” Lenny smiles and whistles to his horse, Bill following.

 

Arthur’s heart lurches as he realizes he doesn’t have a horse, he looks around and spots his saddle on where Uncle and Kieran set the horses.

 

“I, uh, I don’t have a horse yet,” Arthur says awkwardly. Lenny smiles sympathetically and calls for Kieran.

 

“Yeah?” Kieran asks nervously, and Arthur waves him over “Mister Morgan, how are you?”

 

“I’m good, kid,” He answers automatically and points towards his saddle “think you can pick a good horse for me? Mine, he, uh,”

 

“Of course!” Kieran says excitedly, “We have there; beautiful shire, I found it while I was buying some herbs and brushes for the horses and brought it back,” Kieran blabbers excitedly as he escorts Arthur to the horse. Arthur sets his hand on the horse’s neck, it’s light gray hair tickling his palm. The horse neighs and trots a foot away and Arthur lets his head drop “He’s skittish, maybe you’d be better with him,” Kieran guides Arthur to another horse, a Mustang “He’s fairly fast and doesn’t scare easy,” Arthur offers his hand to the horse, who sniffs it for a moment and accepts as Arthur guides a hand through his mane. Arthur smiles, patting the horse and whispering praise, “See, Arthur, he likes you already,”

“Guess so,” Arthur replies, “Thank you, Kieran,”

“My pleasure, Arthur!” Kieran says happily as he fits Arthur’s saddle on the Mustang “What’re you gonna name him?”

Arthur strokes along the horse's neck and thinks, its brownish red coat reminds him of a rusted penny, but that’s too silly for such a serious looking horse. He sees that the horse carries himself strongly, mighty as it holds its head upright and has its brown mane flowing “How about Chisholm?” He says softly and the horse huffs, throwing its head to the side “you don’t like that?” Arthur chuckles “Bossy little pony,” the horse huffs again “okay, you like Barkley?” The horse doesn’t respond “I’ll take that as a yes,” Barkley drops its head as Arthur tests if he likes getting his ears rubbed, “You’re a good boy, Barkley,”

“You’re all good, Arthur,” Kieran says, tugging on the saddle to test if it's tightened well.

“Thanks again, Kieran,” Arthur calls as he mounts slowly, careful on his shoulder “Why don’t you come with us?” he offers and Kieran brightens.

“Really?”

“Yeah, let us lighten our load a little, I’m sure you need a drink,” Arthur waves him “Come on,” Arthur smiles as Kieran runs to get his own horse.

“You ready, Arthur?” Lenny calls and Arthur nods, testing out the reigns and how well Barkley reacts to being directed, once he’s satisfied, they kick off, heading to Saint-Denis.

 


	9. Chapter 9

Saint-Denis always put a bitter taste in Arthur’s mouth, but now it gives him anxiety. He keeps checking on Lenny, always expecting Pinkertons to push Hosea in front of him and kill him. Arthur keeps touching his wound, the tendrils of pain ground him as he rides Barkley to the saloon, the one without the rats.

 

He buys whiskey for everyone, Kieran drinks his quickly and beckons the bartender for another, Sean and Lenny join him happily as they drink shot after shot. Arthur keeps an eye on Bill as he plays poker with a bunch of rich folks. Bill turns angrier the more he’s drunk, and Arthur keeps paying men to calm down and excusing Bill’s actions.

 

Bill, even drunk, knows that Arthur would knock him out if he tries anything with him, and so every time Arthur shoves him to the table, Lenny, Sean, and Kieran are drinking their beers at. “Come on, Arthur,” Sean whines “leave the dosser alone and have some fun,” He drags the word out, leaning on the table “Ey, look” he winks “she’s been eating you up with her eyes ever since we came in,” Arthur glances behind him and the blond woman in the corner catches his gaze, she quickly hides her face and Arthur turns back to the boys.

 

“Old Arthur doesn’t sleep around,” Bill says gruffly “He’s a _real_ ethical one,”

 

“Shut it, Bill,” Lenny scoffs “Even if he wanted to, he can’t do nothing with that shiner decorating his face,”

 

“Oh-ohh” Sean laughs, slapping an arm around Lenny’s shoulder “I’m sure anyone would bend for his rumbly looks” Arthur rolls his eyes, taking a seat “Oh wipe that puss out ya face,” Sean says happily.

 

“Yeah, Arthur, we’re just having poking fun,” Lenny adds, passing his beer “Come on, have a drink, you’re not nearly drunk enough,”

 

Arthur takes the beer, eyeing Kieran as he dozes off in his seat, Arthur sets the drink down again, “I think I’ll pass, Duffy’s sleeping and I don’t trust this town much, keep an eye on Bill” Arthur stands again, hoisting Kieran carefully for his sake and his owns. Sean and Lenny give their goodbyes as Arthur drags Kieran to his feet.

 

“Arthurrrr” Kieran slurs and Arthur helps him out of the saloon, “You saved me,” Kieran says, Arthur huffs a laugh, whistling for his horse.

 

“You did too, Kieran,”

 

“No!” He responds righteously “You saved me, you gave me a-a _life_ ” Kieran gestures wildly and Arthur holds him firmer as he starts to sway.

 

“Okay, Kieran,”

 

“You believe me, right?” Kieran asks, and grabs an armful of Arthur’s vest, “You know I’m grateful and loyal, right?”

 

“Yes, Kieran, I do,” Arthur answers impatiently, helping the younger man onto Barkley. He mounts and gives Barkley a squeeze, heading back to camp.

 

 

Mary-Beth greets them, helping Arthur settle Kieran into his tent. “It’s good to see you walking around, Arthur,” Mary says heartily, Arthur smiles uncomfortably as she goes on “I was so worried, Arthur, you looked half dead,”

 

“Sure felt like it too, but I’m good now, Mary, and I ain’t gone scare you like that again,” Mary takes hold on his arm and squeezes “excuse me,” he nods his head and heads to the campfire.

 

“A ghost walks today, huh?” Micah sneers as Arthur passes where he’s sitting.

 

“And a ghost will be made if you don’t shut your damn mouth,” Arthur calls back, “Where were you anyway, Dutch said he sent for you buy you never came?”

 

“I was doing business, unlike some people, I actually earn my keep,” Micah teases “by the time I got told what happened, yous was already moving.”

 

“Lier,” Javier calls, “He came back to camp after he got called and left again, Miss Grimshaw told him where we were meeting but he never showed,”

 

“You shut your mouth,” Micah snarled, standing up and Javier followed suit.

 

“Why don’t you stop being scum?” Javier called back and Micah laughed humorlessly.

 

“You better keep your attitude in check, you greaser,” Micah spits at Javier’s feet and Javier lunges, pushing Micah against the table and throwing a punch to his throat. Micah chokes and coughs as he falls to the ground and Javier turns to Arthur.

 

Arthur grins at him, and Javier calms a little, Micah gracelessly collects himself from the ground “Little shit doesn’t know when to stop,” Arthur says as Javier walks alongside him towards the campfire.

 

“Yeah, hope Dutch kicks him out soon,” Javier agrees quietly, Arthur feels eyes scathing the back of his neck and he turns, catching Micah staring menacingly at him. Once Micah realizes that Arthur is staring back he grins wide, like a wolf. Arthur shudders internally and turns to look forward, taking a seat beside Charles, who was eating a bowl of stew.

 

“That was a good punch,” Charles says, a small smile playing at his lips, “Wish I could kick his ass,”

 

“Believe me, I think most of us do,” Arthur digs out a bottle of gin, “I didn’t drink enough tonight,” Arthur muses to himself, “Why do I even go out at this point?”

 

“To get into trouble?” Javier says jokingly and Arthur laughs, shaking his head and taking a sip “Pass the bottle, we never got to celebrate your return,” Javier beckons, taking a gulp as soon as the bottle was in his hands “I’ll get my guitar,” Javier jumps to his feet and shouts “Everyone! Come on, tonight we celebrate Arthur’s return!”

 

Everyone gathers around the campfire as Javier brings down his guitar, Pearson distributes beer to everyone and Jack brings Arthur a flower crown he made with Tilly when he was still captured.

 

Javier plays his guitar, Dutch and Hosea sing and stand on either side of Arthur, each one of them with an arm around Arthur’s shoulders.

 

Sean, Lenny, and Bill return after getting kicked out because Bill started a fight with some fool and brighten up as soon as they hear the singing. Jack and Abigail dance around the fire as John awkwardly tells Arthur he was worried about him. He pokes fun at John but places a hand over his shoulder and thanks him for giving half a shit he was gone.

 

Jack drags Arthur to dance with him before Abigail forces him to sleep and Arthur agrees begrudgingly, dancing while half crouched as to be on the same level as Jack and not accidentally kick him.

 

 

 

The night slows as everyone starts to black out or head to sleep. Javier plays a slow tune as Dutch and Molly dance together, Hosea asks Susan to be his partner in the dance and John finally acts like a man and takes Abigail’s hand. Arthur dances with multiple people, Tilly, Sadie, Mary, and even Karen before Sean steals her away.

 

“You’re a good dancer, Arthur,” Sadie says as Arthur spins her “I never danced much,”

 

“Why, you’re doing just fine?” Arthur asks as Sadie settles back into his arms, they sway for a moment and Sadie spins Arthur who goes with it, ducking under her arm and letting himself spin on his heels “Okay, then,” he laughs as Sadie grins at him.

 

“My Jakey hated dancing,” Sadie sighs, letting her head fall on Arthur’s shoulder “You remind me of him, Arthur,”

 

“Your husband was a killer?” Sadie laughs and shakes her head.

 

“He was sweet, a heart of gold and all,” She looks up at Arthur “he was a good man, Arthur. Just like you are, and I guess… your sense of humor is a lot like him. He taught me how to shoot a gun, how to hunt too,”  


“Sounds like a great man,”

 

“He was… He really was,” Sadie breaks off, wiping around her eyes, “I’m sorry, Arthur,” Arthur shakes her head, stepping back.

 

“I understand,” he says simply “you need your time, Sadie, you ain’t going to get over his passing overnight,”

 

“Thank you,” she says as she turns and Arthur nods.

 

“Always,” he watches as she moves to inside the manor, Arthur sighs, Dutch and Molly have separated and Molly in nowhere to be seen, but Dutch stands smoking a cigar as Hosea sings with Javier. The camp is in near silence, everyone beat by the moving and partying. Arthur can feel drowsiness pull on his eyelids, but the night is fine and the beer is settling him in warm. He thinks he hasn’t felt this content in a while. Those who are still awake sit around Javier, who’s now playing a bittersweet tune.

 

Arthur hums along with the girls, he used to love this song, hasn’t heard it in a good while. ‘ _see the fire in your eye’_ they sing in harmony. Javier smiles as the rest join, Hosea joins as they harmonize together, some out of tune but it the girls balance it out. Arthur closes his eyes as he listens, happy to live in the moment. He thinks this may be the closest he’ll ever be to heaven.

 

 

 

‘ _I gave you all I had,’ Arthur tries to breathe through it, through the knives stabbing his lungs ‘ I did’ This isn’t how he wants to go, not with Dutch looking down on him like that, like he’s disappointed._

 

‘ _I-’ Dutch says, disappointment turning into hurt, Arthur wants him to feel it, know how he felt for so long._

 

_You deserve to lose me, he thinks, I don’t want to die, he adds as he rolls onto his back. Micah is talking, of course, he is, but Arthur can not spare the energy to concentrate. ‘John made it’ he blurts, unable to hold himself ‘he’s the only one’ he wheezes, holding in a cough, it hurts to speak, even more, to breathe, but he has to say it. To mock Dutch or to reassure himself. The one left behind is the one to survive ‘the rest of us’_

 

_Just look at me, they’re either dead or crazy. Just realize, just see._

 

_Just understand me. Why couldn’t you understand me, why didn’t you believe me. I was your son, I killed for you, would die for you._

 

‘ _No...’ I wouldn’t die for you, would I? My father, all I ever did was listen to you. I would die for you, pathetic. He wheezes again. ‘I tried’ to save them, to save you ‘I did’ at least I tried. Micah speaks, Arthur’s vision blurs, he gasps a breath in, the fight leaves him weak. Now he understands what Thomas Downes felt like. Sorry bastard._

 

_Dutch leaves him, Micah stomps away. He’s alone, the death he feared, he’s going to die alone. Pinkertons might be the first to find him. He’s going to die alone._

 

_Arthur pushes himself, sees a ledge and crawls to it, he can’t breathe. He can’t breathe, it’s getting harder now, to even let air out is no longer a relief. And he’s going to die alone. At least John and Jack are out Sadie and Charles too, the girls. They moved on. They’ll be safe._

 

_He collapses on the ledge. At least I’ll see the sunrise._

 

‘ _Face me west, so I can watch the sunrise and think about all the good times we had’_

 

Arthur jerks awake, coughing as his body forces in the air. He’s out by the campfire, must’ve dozed off. He breathes, reaching for his shoulder and squeezing, the pain helps the last of his memory fade into the back of his mind. He lets his head drop into his hands and focuses on how well he’s fixing this timeline. Sean’s alive, he’s healthy, they don’t have Cornwall on their ass and Jack is still here, not in the hands of Angelo Bronte.

 

 

“Arthur,” Hosea says quietly, sitting beside him “How are you doing?”

 

“I’m fine, Hosea, what about you?” Arthur sits straight, and Hosea eyes him disbelievingly, “Just-just some bad memories coming back,”

 

“Ah,” Hosea nods, placing a hand on Arthur’s shoulder “Hey, how about some fishing to clear your mind?”

 

“What’re we gonna fish? Alligators?” Arthur asks but stands with Hosea.

 

“I was hoping for some brains, lord knows you need some,” Hosea shoots back and Arthur laughs, shaking his head as he mounts his horse.

 

“You’re still too quick for me, old man,” Arthur says affectionately and Hosea chuckles, smiling as he leads Arthur away from the Manor.

 

“I enjoy picking on children,”

 

 

 

 

“ _You’re doing it wrong”_ Hosea nags as Arthur struggles with the fish.

 

“I’m doing my best, old man,” Arthur grits out, twisting to the side and pulling, Hosea keeps laughing at him as another fish escapes and the hook comes back empty, “ _Shut_ it,”

 

“I’m just saying, Arthur, You’re muscling your way through it,”

 

“So?”

 

“So this isn’t a muscle needing sport,” Hosea says smartly and Arthur throws his hook back, new bait on “I can’t believe after all this time you’re still shit at fishing,”

 

“Did you bring me out here to diss me?” Arthur asks, swaying his fishing rod to attract fish.

 

“I actually brought you to give you some space, you’ve been couped up and through some tough times, thought you might like the change,” Hosea says honestly, looking towards Arthur “I know you think you’re too tough to let yourself be, but sometimes you need to talk about things for them to move on,”

 

Arthur lets his head drop, talking about things, words in general, wasn’t his strong suit. Not verbally anyway. He doesn’t feel trapped anymore, he feels better than he did in Horseshoe Overlook, everyone’s here. No one is dead, he’s sore but fine. No TB nothing, the dreams don’t matter, they’ll fade off eventually.

 

“I-” He starts, Hosea sits, leaving his rod unattended to and Arthur sighs “I’m doing better, I was going through some things, but I’m working it out.”

 

“What did the Pinkertons do?” Hosea coaxed and Arthur scowled, some paranoid part of him whispering that they think he ratted them out. They can’t possibly think that can they? He wouldn’t have been hanged if that’s the case, not so soon anyway. “I just wanna know, Arthur, I know you’d never squeal,”

“They beat me some,” Arthur says nonchalantly as he sits opposite of Hosea “Ross and Milton, the Agents on our case, they visited. Told me my life for info, told me that he had some traps set so when you come to get me you’ll end up dead.” Arthur shakes his head “He left when he realized I wouldn’t talk, he set the guards on me and went back to Sean,”

 

“Ross never talked to Sean,” Hosea cajoled and Arthur looks up sharply “They lied, they didn’t do much to him, except a few punches here and there for the trouble he gave them but they were about to send him to jail before we got him,”

 

Arthur stares for a moment, a swirl of emotions churning in his throat. Relief at Sean not being in much danger, Anger at being lied to, Frustration at his gullible self, and some he isn’t too happy to acknowledge. “Good, that’s-that’s real good,” Arthur breaks the silence.

 

“Did they use him against you?”

 

“No,” Arthur shook his head “No, just told me they had him,”

 

“Ah...” Hosea nods as he takes a deep breath “I’m real sorry, son, this-this entire mess, it’s just-”

 

“Sloppy,” Arthur completes and Hosea nods.

 

“Utterly, we’re in too deep,” He sighs and gazes towards the horizon “We killed a lot of them, they have our names plastered all the way to Strawberry now, the new massacre...”

 

“Our time is ending, Hosea,”

 

“I know, but we have no choice but to fight, do we?”

 

“Some of us, maybe but… but John and his family, the girls, hell, most of us actually,” Arthur chuckles humorlessly, Pearson, Swanson, Charles, Lenny. No one can put a face to their name.

 

“Yeah,” Hosea agrees, looking at Arthur curiously “Do you… want to leave?”

 

Arthur smiles, a question he struggled with. Did he want to leave? Probably not, he can’t, it’s too in his nature to live as an outlaw. He doesn’t have a family to care for like Marston does, not anymore, he has the gang, which is his family as much as anyone is concerned.

 

“I don’t know,” He answers, “If I know everyone’s safe and no one is left behind, Maybe,” Arthur adds, it’s what he wanted to happen before he died. He failed, but that’s not important now, he has a second chance, “What about you?”

 

“I don’t know, either,” Hosea parrots “I-I know that we can’t keep going on like this forever, and everyday something comes up that makes it more-more hard to keep moving on. I just don’t know anymore, you know how many dumbass ideas I had to convince Dutch out of?”

 

“A whole lot, I suppose,” Arthur says smiling and Hosea nods angrily.

 

“He heard about some Italian Mobster up in Saint-Denis and wants to go after him, steal from him.”

 

“Angelo Bronte?” Arthur asks worriedly and Hosea nods “Hell no, that man will be the end of us,” Arthur whisper-shouts “Bronte has the police force under his hands, we try anything with that spaghetti eating bastard and we’ll be done for,”

 

“What’s spaghetti?” Hosea asks and Arthur shrugs.

 

“Some type of Italian food,” Arthur shrugs “I’m sure, uh, some of us might like it,”

 

“Anyway, I told him we shouldn’t stir up more trouble with what the second Blackwater massacre and all but he insists that we need _money,”_

 

“I can get us some money, how much we need?” Arthur asks, tallying where he found those gold bars and some stage coaches running around this time.

 

“No, Arthur, you need rest, Your shoulder, your cold, your goddamn face, you ain’t stepping out of camp for a job for a while,” Hosea lectures, face set firm like he always did when Arthur was still young and shooting his anger out on people.

 

“The camp-”

 

“Will be _fine_ , We’ve got Javier already in Saint-Denis getting word about possible robberies and Bill checking out this old lady’s house for gold, Charles is hunting and selling, even John is getting onto work and gambling us some money. We’re doing fine,” Hosea says quickly, listing as Arthur continues to dwindle on his excuses to go work “if you keep gritting your teeth, your shoulder’ll never be better. It’s already weak since we didn’t treat it immediately and I don’t want you hurting yourself no more, you hear?”

 

“Okay, Hosea,” Arthur rolls his eyes as he folds his fishing rod, “So you rowing back?” he teases and Hosea raises his eyebrows.

 

“I said weak, not useless,” Hosea retorts as Arthur grabs the oars and starts heading back to shore.

 

 


	10. Chapter 10

“Herr Morgan,” Arthur cringes as he turns, ducking his head “Busy, my friend?” he asks, Arthur doesn’t look forward to what comes next, he knows he’s couped up and tense because everyone is babying him but he isn’t _that_ desperate _._

 

“What is it?” Arthur asks, Strauss smiles as he opens his ledger.

 

“I’ve got some debt that is due,” He explains, “A few people here and there, late as always, I thought maybe you can go collect it?”

 

“How much they owe us?”

 

“In total, around a hundred fifty,” Strauss peaks at down to the names, “Thomas Downes, Mister Wroble, Miss Lilly Millet, and that’s it,”

 

“A hundred fifty, you say?” Arthur turns to look around, the camp is mostly busy, Susan’s taking a smoke break after a fight with Karen but she’s too busy stowing in her anger to pay attention to him, “Say what, I’ll give you the money, here,” He reaches into his satchel and takes out a wad of cash, before he got caught, he had made quite the sum of money, not that he wasn’t keeping it safe for any possible disaster. He can always make more, though.

 

“What-”

 

“No, no questions, don’t tell _anyone_ ,” he cuts in forcefully “no more debts, you hear, or I’ll give you the treatment those poor souls had to go through,” he pushes a finger against Strauss’s chest “Be thankful I ain’t kicking you out,” Strauss nods frantically, recoiling from Arthur’s menacing gaze “Go work with Trelawny or something, but _no more debts,_ ” he emphasizes.

 

“Yes, Mister Morgan,” Strauss nods as Arthur lets him scurry away. He clears his throat, his fever is almost entirely out, it spikes around dawn, and Arthur wakes either shaking or sweating bullets. He hasn’t really been taking anything other than some health tonics and Hosea forces him to eat hot stew three times a day.

 

Dutch doesn’t give him hell for being useless, Arthur would have liked that better than the mothering he had been subjecting. He keeps checking on him every time he’s in camp, checks his fever, forces him to change his wrappings regularly.

 

It's touching but it feels too much like how the gang interacts with Jack when he's sick. He's not 4, he's a grown goddamn man.  
  
"It's healing good, nasty scar you ought to have," Sean says one time while Swanson wraps his shoulder, "Gone get you credit with the ladies eh? All that dark and mysterious look and a scar?"  
  
"You want me to walk shirtless? How'll they know I've got a scar you dumbass?" Arthur laughs and Sean looks like he hadn't thought about that, "And then you ask why we don't cut you in on important plans," Arthur laughs as Sean walks off looking flabbergasted.  
  
Once he is allowed to leave, shoulder secured and doused in ointment, he heads out to the horses. Kieran is bucketing water from the swamp and so the horses are left unattended. The unsaddled horses eye him as he walks around, and he has half a mind to take them on a ride. They must be frustrated only being able to walk a few feet at a time. He knows that Barkley is already rearing for a second ride as he keeps neighing at Arthur when he passes by him, huffing when Arthur would pat him and leave.  
  
He brushes them, feeds those who aren't able to reach the hay, he leads a few restless horses into the forest and back and brushes them afterward. Kieran tells him he doesn't have to do all this but admits that this lightens his load by a lot and Arthur tells him that Mary-Beth wanted to talk to him.  
  
Arthur finally reached Barkley who acts pissy while he's getting brushed but resolves after a healthy bribe of carrots. Arthur leads him into the forest, letting him breathe something other than the swamps. He gets bored and Arthur mounts him happily, making him run through the trees. It was starting to darken when Arthur took him out, and as they ride it becomes harder and harder to see the trees and twigs, several times Arthur gets whacked in the face by a branch and so he calls it a night when a branch almost knocks him off Barkley. "You did good today, boy," Arthur soothes as Barkley breathes the exercise away, Arthur leads him onto the main road and start a slow walk towards Shady Belle. They're beside the Gray's property and Arthur waves to the farmers as they work tiredly.  


  
  
"Arthur hasn't come back yet?" Hosea asks Kieran as the boy shovels the horse excrement into a hole.  
  
"No," Kieran answers as he straightens and wipes his eyebrow "he's probably letting Barkley work out his energy, the horse hasn't been out for a ride in a while before Arthur saddled him."  
  
"How long has he been out?" Hosea asks, unable to stow the fear that some gang or bounty hunters took him, maybe even Pinkertons. Lord knows that the boy has the luck of a cursed person. He doesn't panic just yet, only worries silently as he paces around camp.  
  
Most of the boys were out doing jobs, Bill, John, and Karen are robbing a stagecoach, Lenny and Charles are hustling poker, Javier is out charming some men from Rhodes out of their money and Sean... Well, he's probably out drinking.  
  
Dutch is planning something with Micah, but he keeps hearing Dutch turn down the reckless plans Micah offers. Hosea silently thanks God that Dutch seemed to have some sense slapped into him by Arthur's outcry against Micah.  
  
Now he sits, chatting with Pearson as he writes down what the camp needs, provision wise.  
  
Arthur walks in, Barkley behind him and as he hitches him Abigail races towards him, Jack on her hands, Arthur greets them readily.  
  
"Arthur, please, I just need two hours alone. The boy is driving me crazy," Abigail pleads and Arthur takes Jack from her.  
  
"Uncle Arthur!" Jack shouts excitedly "Tilly taught me how to braid hair, do you want to see?"  
  
"Sure," Arthur says lightly, a smile hidden by his growing beard "Who you trying it on?"  
  
"I already did Aunt Mary's hair, I thought maybe you could let me?" Jack asks innocently and Arthur hesitates, pondering for a second before shrugging.  
  
"Sure, I was just about to cut it anyway," Arthur lets Jack lead him to Tilly, who suggests putting little flowers in Arthur's hair and Arthur glares at her "Damn you," he mumbles as he sits under her and Jack and lets his hair get tugged and pulled.  
  
Mary-Beth joins and Sadie settles beside them as they joke about Arthur's situation. Hosea watches from afar, decided it wouldn't hurt to sit with them. He grabs the deck of cards and settles between Sadie and Mary.  
  
"Let's play some cards while Arthur gets beautified," He suggests as he shuffles the cards.  
  
  


 

  
"It's too tight," Arthur complains as he runs a hand down the two braids running at the sides of his head.  
  
"I thought you was supposed to be tough," Tilly laughs as she smooths a hand down Arthur's hair "You make a beautiful lady,"  
  
"Bearded lady," Sadie adds and they crack out laughing.  
  
"What do you think, Uncle Arthur?" Jack asks excitedly and Arthur turns to him.  
  
"That's a damn good job if I say so myself," Arthur praises as Jack grins, Arthur smiling back.  
  
"Would you let me do it again, it was lots and lots of fun," Jack asks pleadingly and Arthur squirms.  
  
"Well...I was actually thinking about cutting it short..." Arthur says awkwardly and Jack deflates.  
  
"Oh okay,"  
  
"But, maybe I'll just trim a bit of it," Arthur fixes "It'll be long enough for you to work on,"  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah! And then maybe you can spare Aunt Mary's hair and experiment on me, maybe even Barkley," Arthur encourages and Jack wraps an arm around Arthur's shoulder.  
  
"That would be great!" Jack cheers and Arthur agrees in a hum, "can I go play now?"  
  
"Sure," Arthur scoots so Jack can hop from behind him "Don't stray too far!"  
  
"Okay, Uncle Arthur!"  
  
Hosea laughs as Arthur turns and grunts at his pulled hair "I swear I can feel my hair getting ripped out," He grumbles as he smooths at the edge of his hairline.  
  
The girls disperse as Dutch appears, Mary-Beth complimenting Arthur sincerely as she leaves to write in her notebook and Sadie leaves for a ride into town.  
  
"Looking good, Cinderella," Dutch jokes as he nears Arthur and sits on Tilly's chair. Micah sneers silently from behind him and Arthur rolls his eyes.  
  
"Jokes on you, I look fantastic," Arthur says in faux confidence and Dutch snorts.  
  
"Sure do," Hosea laughs, and Arthur rolls his eyes again.  
  
"Did you want something, Dutch? Or are you all just here to make fun of me?" Arthur asks, crossing his arms and Hosea turns to Dutch.  
  
"I just wanted to check up on you, tell you that the flowers are... Majestic." Dutch smiles but continues, "There's a, uh, a job,"  
  
"Dutch!" Hosea hisses and Dutch raises his hands defensively "I thought we agreed," Hosea adds sharply, Arthur cannot go shooting for at least another two weeks, or his shoulder might be in serious danger.  
  
"I know, I know what we agreed on," Dutch says meekly and bends to Arthur and Hosea's level "There's no gun shooting, none at all, I promise. We're just heading to Saint-Denis and sweet talking some rich folk into thinking we're some Canadian Entrepreneurs who deal in art, we need Arthur to act as our talented unknown artist," Dutch grins, looking back at Arthur, "There's this art exhibit, some over-the-top artists will attend and I thought that maybe if we can get some of them to 'help a fellow artist out' and scam some men into giving us money. We have a backstory and everything," Dutch explains excitedly "This is as tame as they come, all Arthur would do is dress up, sketch some drawings for the artists and sweet talk some gullible people into helping him out. No guns, no danger," Dutch pauses, looking in-between Arthur and Hosea "So?"  
  
"I don't know, Dutch," Arthur says awkwardly "I'm not that good of an artist,"  
  
"Nonsense, my boy!" Dutch heaves himself to his feet "I know you've got some amazing talent in you, and even if, haven't you seen how awful art has been recently? Just draw some naked lady and call it art," Dutch winks, "this is as good as it'll get, Arthur,"  
  
"Yeah, yeah I know," Arthur scratches at his beard for a moment before nodding "Fine, I'll do it,"  
  
"Great!" Dutch says gleefully "Arthur Callahan, I promise you'll be rich after this is over,"  
  
"Sure hope so,” Arthur says under his breath “So, what am I supposed to do exactly?" he asks, pushing himself to his feet.  
  
"Get yourself shaved and suited, I want you to draw something, two or three drawings should be fine, just to be ready when they ask about your art." Dutch walks with a bounce in his step as he leads Arthur inside "I got these... art supplies, the store clerk said they're the best in town, you'll take it with you,"  
  
"Sure,"  
  
"Hosea will be with us, of course, as your father who's trying to get his son famous," Dutch says, waving Hosea over "Micah and Javier will play as guards, in case anything goes wrong, Arthur you won't have any guns on you, nor Hosea. We don't want them to think we're sketchy,"  
  
"Sure, Dutch," Hosea nods, "When's this gallery?"  
  
"Tomorrow night," Dutch says and Arthur nods "We'll leave out horses near the Saloon and take a carriage to the gallery, I already had Josiah rent one and he'll be waiting to escort us," Dutch turns happily, "This is going to be good," He says and Arthur smiles, a bit of excitement seeping in as Dutch radiates it.  



	11. Chapter 11

"Looking good, sir," Javier whistles as Arthur trots past him and drops from his horse "Can't say I don't miss the flower braids though,"

"Shut it, Escuella," Arthur rolls his eyes as Josiah arrives with the carriage. Dutch and Hosea arrive just in time as Arthur hands over his pistols to Trelawney and sits uncomfortably in his suit and tie. He feels like an imposer but doesn't voice it. He has a black neat satchel on his lap, not as sturdy nor big as his usual one, but it matches his clean look, his hair is trimmed and put in a neat ponytail. He has paint splatter on his fingers from the paintings and drawings he did, Dutch made sure Arthur doesn’t wash it off for authenticity.

“Hello, Mister Callahan,” Dutch greets as he climbs along with Hosea into the carriage, “you look ravishing,”

“Thank you,” Arthur says reluctantly as he fiddles with the cuffs of his suit, “What will you be doing, anyway?”

“My dear boy, I will do what I do best,”

“Lying?”

“Lying, indeed, I will be playing as Tucson Halligan, an art enthusiast who’s unafraid to spend a pretty penny on equally pretty paintings, I will stir up the competition,” Dutch says dramatically and Arthur chuckles, “My dear boy, I will make you a star,”

“Sure thing, Mister Halligan,”

“Did you bring everything?” Dutch asks after they’ve settled and Arthur nods, taking out the paintings he made “Damn, I think we can actually sell these for a good price,” Dutch says, smiling widely.

“Sure are pretty,” Hosea agrees, taking the sketches Arthur puts forward “Who’s this?” Hosea asks, eyebrows rising as he scans a page “Arthur, never took you for a man who draws people in their...delicates,”

Arthur laughs, taking the picture of a faceless woman he drew, it’s close to what Chatenay drew for his own exhibit, it sparked when Dutch told him to draw a naked women and well, that’s the closest he can draw to naked.

“This is good,” Dutch hands back the paintings, “Alright, gentlemen,” he announces as Trelawney knocks on the carriage’s roof, “Let’s bluff some fools,”

 

The gallery was pretentious as they come, champagne sipping men and women at every corner as people from all over the world speak in hushed, superior tones. Arthur and Hosea walk together, get as close as they can to crowds and trying to introduce themselves. The script wasn’t exactly revised but they finally struck gold as a woman approaches Arthur as he stares down at one of his paintings, He tried his best on it, it’s a portrait of a man and a child playing together with sticks. It was actually John and Jack playing as pirates with two long sticks they found by the forest. He likes it a lot, John even asked to keep it after the job was done, but now he can’t seem but spot every flaw in it. He’s not a painter, he’s barely even an artist. No one will believe he’s one of those talented folk, arrogant as they are.

“Excuse me, sir,” The woman ushers her husband over, “I was wondering who painted this masterpiece?” She exaggerates as a plump man with a sizable mustache wraps an arm around her waist.

“I...um,” Arthur stutters awkwardly, he can feel his face flush at the indirect compliment and thankfully Hosea smoothly chimes in.

“You just spoke to him, Madam!” he chirps “May I introduce you to the talented but sadly unrecognized, Arthur Callahan?”

“Oh, I never heard of you, my dear,” The woman says sadly as Hosea and Arthur kiss her hand in greeting, shaking her husband’s hand, “My name is Charlotte Kwinsky, My husband, Luis Kwinsky,” She introduces.

“Gavin Callahan,” Hosea introduces, “My boy, Arthur, he’s been trying hard to get into the art business, tries his best to save a spot in any gallery, but sadly no one would have him,” Hosea says in mock sadness, Arthur plays the part and sighs in disappointment.

“Their loss,” Luis says, looking at Arthur “That’s some real talent you got there, son,”

“Oh yes, indeed,” Charlotte says as she leans against her husband “Do you have anything else on you?”

“Uh, yes, I-I do,” Arthur says, face positively red at the compliments, he digs out the sketches and other two paintings, a little rumpled by his admittedly poor handling.

“Oh these are wonderful!” Charlotte says, handing the ones she already examined to her husband, who takes a closer look and returns it to Hosea, “Oh my...” She pauses and Arthur clears his throat as her husband scans the paper in interest.

“My boy, he, uh, he’s quite the romantic, I blame Paris,” Hosea fixes smoothly and Arthur thanks the gods that the man is there beside him “He draws what he loves and well, who can blame him for loving women?” Hosea laughs along with Luis and Arthur joins nervously.

“Never mind the...nature of this sketch, it’s still a beautiful piece,” Luis says, “You said you’re looking for a gallery?”

“Uh, Yes sir,” Arthur nods, shifting on his feet as he catches Dutches gaze.

“I- well I own a business with a friend,” Luis starts, “How do you feel about selling these pieces to me? I pay a very very good price,”

“How much?” Arthur asks as Dutch stalks towards them.

“How about a hundred a piece?” Luis offers and Arthur has to restrain himself from gawking.

“What a fine artist we have here,” Dutch drawls, looking over Luis’ shoulder, who jumps back in surprise. “Are you selling your work, gentleman?”

“Yes,” Arthur answers, eyes casting towards Hosea who smirks, this is where the plan starts to get interesting, Arthur supposes, “This gentleman is offering me a hundred a piece,” Arthur gestures towards Luis who raises his chin as Dutch scans him.

“A hundred? Only? For such fine pieces?” Dutch says, sounding scandalized “how about I offer you one fifty each?”

“Excuse me, but I was here before you,” Luis hisses angrily, face turning laughably red “Two hundred” Luis says forcefully.

“Two fifty” Dutch challenges, a crowd begins to form as Hosea passes Arthur's artwork around and more and more people join.

“Two seventy five, and that’s final,” Luis crosses his arms and Charlotte whines as Luis refuses to raise the price.

“Three hundred, each!” A man calls from beside him, clean-shaven and hair parted sideways.

“Three fifty!”

“Four hundred” Charlotte bellows and Luis looks at her in shock.

“Four fifty”

“six hundred!” Dutch raises, Hosea bounces happily beside Arthur, who’s too thunderstuck at the prices to react.

“Seven hundred”

“One thousand!” Luis says, out of breath, the shouts of disapproval rise and Arthur gets pushed around.

“One thousand one hundred!”

“Two thousand!”

“Two thousand five hundred!”

 

“Fine night, gentlemen!” Dutch says happily as Arthur and Hosea laugh loudly, walking towards their horses with Javier and Micah trail behind them with grins “What a wonderful job,”

“Indeed it is!” Hosea chirps, throwing an arm around Arthur's shoulder “See, I told you, Arthur”

“You sure did, old man,” Arthur laughs and shakes his head.

“Twelve thousand dollars!” Dutch cheers, “We’re rich now, boys!”

“Good job, Arthur,” Javier says lightly as Arthur mounts Barkley, who shakes his heads as Arthur runs a hand through his mane.

“Yeah, job well done, Arthur,” Dutch congratulates as he trots beside Arthur “you made us real proud, son, who knows, maybe you can be an artist someday,”

“Oh I was loosing my mind,” Arthur replies sheepishly, ducking his head. He swims in compliments today, and it doesn’t get easier to accept them.

Dutch counts the money, tossing Arthur two big wads, must be at least a thousand, the rest get similar amounts of money and Javier whoops as they ride towards camp.

 

Arthur strolls around Saint-Denis, searching for some good clothing and shopping for camp when a man starts following him. Arthur checks over his shoulder, he doesn’t recognize the man, he could be a bounty hunter or some other person trying to kill him for something he did.

“Excuse me, Excuse me!” the man shouts as Arthur takes up a jog and turns into an alleyway “excuse-oh goodness!” the man wails as Arthur pushes him against a wall, gun firmly against his chest.

“What you want, why are you following me?” Arthur demands, biting back a wince as his shoulder pops uncomfortably as he threatens the man.

“I-I-I was simply asking if you’re the infamous Arthur Callahan,” the man stutters and Arthur huffs, letting go and putting back his gun in it’s holster “I assume that I was correct?”

“Sure, depends on who’s asking,”

“My name is Kevin Laventosh, I work under Chatenay Enterprise?” The man straightens his jacket, obviously proud of his job. Arthur’s eyebrows raise in shock, Chatenay has an entire company?

“Charles Chatenay?”

“Yes, you must’ve heard about him!” Kevin grins “He’s thoroughly impressed with your work and has asked to buy some pieces from you! If you’d meet him, of course,”

“Oh, friend, I-I ain’t interested in working, not currently,” Arthur says as he turns, ready to leave Laventosh behind and escape the situation,

“We pay good!” Kevin yells, running to catch up with Arthur, “If you have some sketches to sell, we’re ready to pay whatever price you may ask,” he reaches into his pocket and Arthur watches cautiously “here,” he hands Arthur a card “Whenever you have something to sell, or you’re interested in commission work, we’re always available”

“huh, thanks,” Arthur tips his head as he pockets the card and Kevin runs off, waving enthusiastically.

 

  
“Well, well, well,” Micah drawls as Arthur puts down his new sketch book, he might not be a painter but he admits he likes to draw, and he won’t give up a good chance to get some extra cash “if it isn’t Da Vinici?”

“What do you want?” Arthur snaps as he tucks the sketch under his leg.

“What? I can’t compliment my brother?” Micah asks innocently and hoisting a leg on the log beside Arthur.

Arthur scoffs, a smile playing on his lips “We ain’t brothers,”

“We’re both sons of Dutch, makes us brothers don’t it?” Micah quipped and Arthur got to his feet, “Deny it all you want, cowpoke, but you can’t run away from facts,”

“I’ll just act like I didn’t hear you,” Arthur muses as he walks away, art supplies tucked neatly under his arm.

“Come on, Arthur, you’ll have to warm up to me soon enough,” Micah nags and Arthur turns on his heal sharply.

“Look, cowpoke, I don’t like you, not now, not tomorrow, not ever,” Arthur says dangerously, finger pointed accusingly at Micah, who steps backwards as Arthur stomps slowly towards him “I would gladly shoot you six times a week if I can, and I’m only holding back because Dutch tolerates you. But believe me, Micah,” Arthur spits his name like venom, Micah flinches as Arthur takes one more step towards him and pauses “Once Dutch sees how you really are, you’ll be staring down the barrel of my gun,”

“Arthur,” Charles intervenes cautiously and Arthur smirks at Micah, who turns to leave with whats left of his dignity, if he has any.

“Don’t worry, Charles,” Arthur assures, watching Micah disappear into the manor.

“I don’t like him anymore than you do,” Charles says as he walks towards Arthur “I haven’t been here long enough but he- I don’t know, he just seems to be too out of control for the gang”

“Yeah, he isn’t,” Arthur agrees, “He goes against our code, goes against every moral Dutch taught so righteously to us, I don’t even know why we keep him around, all he causes is more trouble,” Arthur complained, gaze falling to the ground, “I’ll see you around,” Arthur waves as he walks sullenly towards camp.


	12. Chapter 12

John sits across from Arthur, just having returned from an unsuccessful heist with Lenny. Not only that, but Arthur heard Abigail chew him out about telling Jack off earlier when Jack wanted to go fishing with him.  
  
"Who shit in your stew," Arthur jokes as he pours a cup of coffee and hands it to John "Look, you should know that we will never win all of them," Arthur consoles, pushing at John's shoulder playfully, "Plus, we're just happy you two got back in one piece,"  
  
"Yeah," John says dejectedly and Arthur sighs "I don't know what to do," he adds, sipping at the bitter coffee.  
  
"You'll find a better job, soon, just forget about it," Arthur encourages and John shakes his head.  
  
"No, I mean," John sighs frustratingly, "I don't know what to do with Jack, with Abigail, it's so-" he breaks off, unable to find a word suitable.  
  
"Different?" Arthur supplies and John nods.  
  
"Yeah, different, I'm not a dad, Arthur, I can barely take care of myself let alone a little kid," John admits, and Arthur switches seats to sit beside him.  
  
"Look, John,"  
  
"I know, I know, I should be a man and take care of my family and whatever," John waves him off, gulping down his coffee.  
  
"You should do that," Arthur starts as John starts to stand, he sets a firm hand and pushes down back "/but/" he emphasizes as he turns to John, "I think you should take baby steps. Don't force yourself into total fatherhood, God knows you'd fuck that up faster than a startled deer." Arthur says as John listens silently "Don't act like a father to him, well eventually do, but take it easy, start by just talking to him or even playing with him, the boy likes to draw you know, maybe you should sit with him while he does,"  
  
"But he always wants so much," John complains and Arthur raises an eyebrow.  
  
"No he doesn't, Marston, and the sooner you stop making excuses the sooner you'll find yourself being a father without trying," Arthur advises wisely.  
  
"I don't know,"  
  
"You do know, John. You think I'm an idiot?" Arthur asks and John's looks away "I know you didn't believe Jack's your kid, but you wouldn't have..." Arthur trails off, /wouldn't have been so scared when he got kidnapped/ he means to say, "came back, wouldn't have put up with Abigail," he mends and John's gaze falls to the ground, "take the kid out shopping sometime, the last score got our wallets well stuffed, and Lord knows the kid is either swimming in his clothes or is half covered."  
  
"What if he decides that I'm not what he imagined?" John asks insecurely and Arthur softens his tone.  
  
"John Marston, you're one of the greatest men I've met. Sure you're a little dull, but you're still a good man, and that kid is going to love you. Even more, than he does." Arthur reassures, "I know you're stressing yourself about how Abigail thinks you should be, just be yourself around the kid, take him on a ride somewhere. I'll even talk to Abigail," Arthur suggests and John looks at him, eyes softer and more emotional than they have been for some time now.  
  
"You'd do that?"  
  
"You're my brother, of course, I'd do that for you," Arthur chirps and John cracks a smile.

 

“Thank you,”

 

“Don’t need to thank me,”

 

 

 

“Who let the damn dog through?” Bill shouts as a familiar dog strides through, ignoring everyone and heading straight to Arthur who bends down to greet it.

 

“Cain,” Arthur says under his breath as the dog presses its head against Arthur’s chest “good to see you, boy,” Arthur admits as he scratches behind Cain’s ear, he won’t lie, he was pretty upset about Cain ‘disappearing’ from camp, that dog was the last thing Arthur associated with peace and when Micah kept retorting about how it won’t be bothering them, oh he damn well knew that he had killed the poor thing.

 

“You _really_ are Cinderella, huh?” Dutch jokes as he leans against a wall and Arthur looks up, hand freezing on Cain’s head like a deer in headlights.

 

“We’re keeping him right?” Arthur asks, he winces as he hears the childish tone he couldn’t help but use.

 

Dutch looks taken back for a second then nods “yeah, sure, what’ll we name him?”

 

“Cain,” Arthur answers immediately and Cain looks back at him, tongue hanging out happily as Arthur digs in his satchel and pulls out a bread roll, handing it to Cain who sniffs it for a moment before eating it greedily from Arthur’s hand, “Lost wanderer or something, right?”

 

“Yeah,” Dutch agrees and Arthur sits fully in the ground, knees beginning to ache as he scratches behind Cain’s ears “Never knew you liked dogs,” Dutch coaxed as Arthur lets Cain lick at his face, he didn’t realize a smile had stretched over his face as he chuckles and pushed Cain away gently.

 

“Me neither,” Arthur answers, “But I like him, we could hunt with him you know,” Arthur notes as Cain eyes Dutch curiously.

 

“That we could,” Dutch agrees as he nears Arthur and Cain, he kneels and Cain sniffs him, looking back at Arthur as if to ask for advice.

 

“Come on, boy,” Arthur soothes and Cain lowers his head, allowing Dutch to pat him.

 

 

 

“ _Who here is with me?” The voice, a panicked, angry and rotting voice, Dutch’s voice. It floats around Arthur’s head, blurs as the scene unfolds in front of him “And who is_ _betraying_ _me?” Dutch turns his gun towards Arthur and his blood freezes. So much for loyalty, Arthur thinks bitterly as he looks around. The scene freezes, Arthur can move. He turns to look at John, angry, hurt and bleeding like he remembers. Miss Grimshaw is on his left, shot, dead._

 

_Who here is with me. What a joke._

 

_There’s footsteps cutting through the trees and Arthur turns sharply, turning to face a deer, it stares at him, almost smiling. Arthur feels close to the deer, he’s seen it before, in his dreams._

 

_This must be a dream._

 

 _Arthur_ _walks slowly towards it, afraid it’ll run, but it shows no sign of fear as Arthur reaches for it._

 

“ _He’s lying,” A shrewd voice cuts the peace and the deer stretches its neck, Arthur looks behind him as Micah moves slowly “He’s lying,” Micah says happily. Snake, a snake, Arthur thinks bitterly, poisoning the entire gang, slowly, surely, confidently, smartly. Arthur shakes his head as he raises his gun, if this is a dream, he can use it for his own satisfaction._

 

“ _Fuck you,” Arthur growls, pulling the trigger, there’s a bang, Arthur waits, noticing that his vision is blurring and he falls into darkness._

 

 

He jerks awake, as he seems to often be, his arm hold his gun tightly and he quickly tucks it back into its holster. It’s not the first time he woke up with his gun in his hand, but those time it had always been for a good reason, an attack, someone trying to kill him, a goddamn _beaver_ who thinks it's funny to wreck Arthur’s tent. But now, it's for some messed up memory dream. He thinks he feels better, finally taking a shot at Micah, he feels like he can take on the day.

 

He leaves his room, grabbing a box of ammo as he does. Tilly bids him good morning as he returns the sentiment and heads for Pearson, who’s pouring coffee for the early birds around the camp table. “Good morning!” Arthur greets happily as he grabs a cup and settles between a groggy Sean and Hosea, who’s reading.

 

“Oh, you’re in a good mood,” Hosea notes, seemingly happy with the fact and Arthur tips his hat with a smile, “That’s good,”

 

“Sure is,” Arthur agrees, sipping his coffee, “I’m going hunting today, anyone want anything? I can pass by Rhodes or Saint-Denis on my way,” Arthur offers and Charles peaks his head from beside Mary-Beth, who looks like she’s still trying to wake herself up.

“It’d be nice if you can pass by the gunsmith in Rhodes, I had something custom made and I was supposed to get it today,”

 

Arthur nods, pushing himself to his feet.

 

“Can you buy some more liquor?” Sean asks sleepily.

 

“Friend, you look like you need a rehabilitation period.” Arthur smiles but nods nevertheless.

 

 

 

He feels free as he exits Rhodes, he didn’t stray with hunting, he got a couple of gator and deer pelts, One lone rabbit and some plucked rooster on either side of his saddle. He knows Pearson is itching to get his crafts on and so he doesn’t sell them. Barkley huffs as Arthur trots towards camp, happy with how the day is ending.

 

As all things seem to be, it doesn’t last. Its only a couple of minutes after Arthur arrives when he hears the heavy thudding of a wagon echoing through the driveway of the camp. He takes a look, waits for Charles’ word as he’s the one guarding.

 

From afar, Arthur notices Charles getting dragged by his shirt. Arthur is instantly on his knees.

 

“We’re under attack!” He shouts, grabbing his rifle from Barkley, who rears at the commotion as everyone rearranges themselves. Sean, Lenny, and Bill stand in front of the entrance as the women fill the house, Pearson behind them with his pistol out. Dutch and Hosea stand on the upper terrace.

 

“Get inside, Arthur!” Hosea yells, taking cover behind a pole, Arthur looks back.

 

“This is Agent Milton with the Pinkerton detective agency!” Milton shouts as the wagon stops and horses fill the entrance of Shady Belle. Arthur swears under his breath as he hides behind the broken fence, “On behalf of the United States Government and the Commonwealth of West Elizabeth, we are here to arrest you!”

 

Arthur peaks, counting at least twenty men front and some hidden between the trees. “Shit, shit, _shit,”_ he panics as he checks on Charles, who looks grim as Milton presses a gun to his head. Charles spots him and they make eye contact then Charles looks down.

 

Arthur follows his gaze and spots the metal gleaming of a pistol.

 

A plan forms quickly in his mind, he doesn’t doubt it as he doesn’t really have much time to give it much thought.

 

He looks back at Dutch, who stays silent as Milton finishes his speech. Hosea looks at him and Arthur takes out his pistol, shaking it to signal that he has a plan. Hosea nods reluctantly and waves Dutch, pointing at Arthur.

 

“You have five seconds!” Milton shouts as he starts to count. Arthur takes a deep breath, mentally picturing where the men are. He has eight bullets, enough to take Milton and the front line down. He has one chance, eight shots for eight seconds. If he messes up, he’s dead.

 

He pushes himself and his vision blurs, Milton ducks at the sight of Arthur’s gun and Arthur shoots. Eight bullets.

 

_One_

 

_Two_

 

_Three_

 

_Four_

 

_Five_

 

_Six_

 

_Seven_

 

_Eight._

 

Eight men fall as Arthur slides to the other side of the fence. Charles pushes Milton off and runs, taking cover opposite of Arthur. The gunfire is deafening as the Maxim Gun rears. Arthur hears the horses run in panic and he peaks, shooting the man behind the Maxim Gun and then ducking again, a shot flies over his head and he breathes steadily. His shoulder aches from the gun's recoil, but there’s no time to dwell on that. He has to keep everyone alive.

 

“Everyone get in the house!” He yells, waving for Sean and Bill to hurry up.

 

“There's men on the side!” Javier shouts, Arthur turns on his knee and puts his pistol in its holster, switching to his rifle.

 

They’re only three men, he focuses, eyes trained on the lawmen running towards the house. Three shots are fired and Arthur watches them collapse.

 

“We need to get inside!” Charles yells, “there’s too many of them!”

 

Arthur nods, waving him “You go, I’ll follow, I’ve got a plan!” Charles gives a nod before he hauls himself and sprints into the house, Bill and Pearson covering him. Arthur peaks, the gunfire pause, and Arthur hears a bark before he gets violently shoved to the ground. He yelps as a dog snarls at him, biting down on his side and then moving on to mauling the rest of him. He struggles under it, his mind swirls in uncontrolled panic as he tries to free his arm. He hears a bark and he thinks that another one is about to bite him when the dog is suddenly off him. Arthur pushes himself, grateful for the fence as he sees Cain fighting the law dog. Arthur grimly pulls out his pistol and shoot the dog, there’s a whimper and then Cain is running back to Arthur, cowering under him as Arthur soothes a hand over his body. “Get going, boy,” Arthur says as he sends Cain towards the house.

 

He grabs his rifle from the ground, checking himself once over and filling with relief as he notices that the dog didn’t do much harm, only a few scratches and a bite mark across his forearm.

 

“Arthur!” Hosea shouts from the upstairs window and Arthur waves him down, he could get himself killed, Arthur can’t have that, though he appreciates the man's worry.

 

He digs around in his satchel as takes out the fire bottle, he gives it a good luck kiss as he takes out a match and lights it against his shoe, setting the cloth on fire before standing and throwing the bottle in the middle of the Pinkertons. He doesn’t stand to watch as he runs towards the house, he hears their screams and holds his guilt at bay.

 

“They’re running away!” Bill shouts as he fires a round, he laughs victoriously as Dutch and Hosea march down the stairs hurriedly. Arthur rolls his shoulder, wincing as it aches from his rifle, he hides it quick when Hosea hurries towards him, checking him over and stepping back when he realizes that he is mostly bullet free.

 

“Are you alright?” Hosea asks as he gives a second scan to Arthur, “The dog...”

 

“Yeah, I’m good,” Arthur assures as he scans the crowd. No one seems harmed, the fact settles warmly in his chest.

 

“You saved us, Arthur,” Dutch says, and Arthur raises a hand to wave off the compliment, “Is everyone alright?”

 

The gang slowly shout their yeses as the rush of fear fades. Arthur takes in a deep breath, a boulder off his chest at the recent success.

 

“How the hell did they find us, Dutch?” Abigail asks worriedly, Jack in her arms as she carefully stays out of sight from the windows.

 

“I don’t know,” Dutch admits sullenly as he turns to the forming crowd “What I do know is that we are working on borrowed time, I need all of you to rest, We’ll be moving as soon.”


	13. Chapter 13

Arthur talks with a lot of people, Abigail holds a pistol on her in fear of another attack and Dutch secludes himself away from Molly and the others. Hosea orders Pearson to make stew and drinks to calm everyone, Cain sits on a bunch laps and gets a lot of love from the gang members.  
  
John returns when the night begins to break and hurries over to Abigail and Jack, word of the battle spreading quickly.  
  
Arthur sits on the dock, writing peacefully as the mood of the camp cools into calm alertness. He watches a gator go by and has half a mind to shoot it but decides that can bring unnecessary attention. He relaxes a bit, he realizes now that he needs to grasp these little moments a close as he can since it seems that in any time they could be in a fight.

 

He sits there in relative silence for what feels like a moment, but he knows its much longer as the hustle of the camp quietens. He hears Hosea forcing everyone to an early sleep, charging Javier, Bill, and Lenny with the night guard. No one tried to complain about the night shift as they usually do, a punishment any other time but after today, they all feel paranoid about loitering Pinkertons.

 

Micah is nowhere to be seen, Arthur notes to himself. He actually hadn’t seen him since yesterday. Arthur can put two and two together and huffs angrily, forcing his eyes open and gazing at the starry sky for a moment before he flexes his neck and notices Cain asleep beside him. Arthur smiles to himself, anger tampered down slightly as he pushes himself and scooping Cain up carefully. The dog jerks awake, fussing in Arthur’s arms before settling into a more comfortable position and lets out a content huff.

 

“You really like that dog?” Hosea asks, seemingly appearing out of nowhere and Arthur is thankful that he had enough self-control to not drop Cain, Hosea smiles, tense lines across his face fading for a moment as he scans over Arthur.

 

“Uh, yeah,” Arthur answers meekly as he looks down at Cain, “He’s good for camp,”

 

“Sure is,” Hosea agrees gently, shoulders relaxing as he finally lets the tolls of the day to take over, “I’m beat,”

 

“You should sleep, you did good today,” Arthur suggested, stepping closer to the older man who straightened his back, “I’ll stay up, make sure Bill and Javier don’t kill each other,”

 

“No, no you need rest,” Hosea rebuts and Arthur rolls his eyes.

 

“Old man, I can manage to stay up a few hours, You, on the other hand, look like you’re about to tip. Now go on, get some sleep. You’ll be useless when you’re sleep deprived,” Arthur scolds and Hosea laughs tiredly.

 

“When did you become my mother?”

 

“When you decided to be a self-destructive, pig-headed teenager,” Arthur jokes and Hosea sighs, “Go, You’ll be first to know if something goes wrong,” Hosea nods and turns on his heel reluctantly.

 

“Thank you, Arthur,” Hosea says as he pauses and turns halfway to look at Arthur, “You really are our savior,”

 

“I’m just looking out for my family, I ain’t no savior,” Arthur replies seriously and Hosea smiles, turning and heading for the manor.

 

 

 

 

 

It was finally breaking into dawn, Arthur had joined the guard around midnight and had entertained himself by scouting the forest almost ten times as Javier and Lenny share jokes and Bill smokes tensely. Their mood is sharp, not unpleasant but there is always a tinge of fear that sparks at every passing deer that ruffles a bush and every squeal a boar lets out. Multiple times Arthur checks behind him, afraid that someone would be following him, someone about to kill him.

 

Pearson greets them at six in the morning, handing them coffee and some bread rolls. They sit tiredly together in a tired circle as they eat miserably, all eager for Sean and John to wake up and take the charge. Javier leans heavily on his elbows as Arthur wipes down his pistols for the third time, Bill and Lenny debating tiredly about something or other.

 

They break off as soon as the camp is half alive, Tilly and Mary-Beth already tinkling about and helping reshape the camp into something cleaner. Miss Grimshaw shoos them to sleep as she forces Sean to wake up, forcing the other half of camp to wake up as well as Sean puts up an argument.

 

Arthur passes out on his bed, sleep taking him in with open arms as soon as he hits the thin pillow.

 

 

 

Arthur wakes up slowly, disoriented for a moment until he realizes that someone is shaking his shoulder gently. He forces his eyes open, surprised when he notices that it’s nighttime. Hosea stands above him, looking much better than yesterday. Once he notices that Arthur had finally woken he steps back.

 

“Hosea,” Arthur greets groggily as he sits up slowly, sleep still tethering him to his bed.

 

“Arthur,” Hosea nods once, “Dutch wants to discuss something with you,”

 

“Huh, what did I mess up this time?” Arthur asks rhetorically as he stands, rubbing at his eyes and grabbing his hat.

 

“Nothing, from what I know at least.” Hosea assures as he follows Arthur to Dutch’s room “He seemed nervous though, some new plan maybe,”

 

“Can we get somewhere safer before start any more plans?” Arthur whines quietly as he nears the room, “I hope it isn’t something too dangerous.”

 

“Me too, Arthur,” Hosea sighs as they walk into the room, “I think the camp isn’t in good shape enough to go do something big and flashy.”

 

“Arthur, Hosea,” Dutch greets as the duo step onto the terrace, Arthur tips his head in greeting as Hosea nods his, Dutch looks between them, Arthur would even say he looked awkward as he takes a breath in “We need to set up a plan to move camp safely, I seem to… look over some aspects and well...we can’t risk that now.” Dutch says slowly, looking like it’s causing him physical pain to ask for help, “You two are my most trusted… I believe with you two aiding me plan, we will limit our share of bad situations,” He looks between the two men and drops his head, “So will you help me?”

 

“Of course, Dutch,” Hosea nods, passing a glance to Arthur who voices his agreement, “I think we should move, quickly,”

 

“Yeah,” Dutch agrees, looking over his shoulder, away from the men standing in front of him, “Do you know any places we could stay?” Dutch looks at Arthur who worries his tongue over the inside of his teeth. He would sell his soul before going back to Lakay  _or_ Beaver Hollow.

 

They could move north towards New Hanover, maybe scout near Annesburg. Arthur realizes bitterly that they’re going to run out of places soon, The Pinkertons will never stop following them, they will never stop running. Arthur can see why Dutch wanted to go to Tahiti now.

 

The silence stretches as Arthur maps out possible spots. “We’re running out of space,” Arthur says quietly, eyes darting as he mentally pictures the area near Annesburg, “We need to stay quiet for a moment, maybe at least a few weeks so the Pinkertons would lose our track. I can go scouting up north, I know a few desolate spots that could work for us,” Arthur sighs and Dutch nods, looking disappointed at the prospect of lying low.

 

“Lie low,” Dutch drawls in distaste, “It’s vital now, isn’t it?”

 

“We need them to think we disappeared, like always we’ll use fake names, fake backstories, and jobs,” Hosea lists as Arthur nods along, “We need time to find a good place to stay until we know what we’re doing,”

 

“Yes, we should, we should...” Dutch takes a deep breath, nodding as the idea settles, “Alright,”

 

“I can take John and find the perfect place, check if anyone's hanging around,” Arthur suggests and Dutch shares a look with Hosea.

 

“We need you around, We can send Charles and John,” Dutch replies and Arthur frowns but nods.

 

 

 

 

“Canada,”

 

“Canada?” Arthur asks, confused.

 

“I heard it’s nice,” Charles chimes in and Arthur looks at him, still confused.

 

“I heard it’s cold,” John rebuts and Bill let out a noise of complaint.

 

“Not that again,”

 

“How will we get to _Canada,_ ” Arthur asks as they share glances. The camp is nestled tight around the campfire, most are there as they discuss where they could end up.

 

“I heard some of the south pacific islands are nice,” Javier changes the subject and Arthur shakes his head, “Someplace, Tahiti or something,” he waves a hand nonchalantly.

 

“What will we do on _Tahiti_?” Lenny asks.

 

“Be free, whatever we want, we could leave this life behind,” Javier replies dreamily, “I don’t want to live the rest of my life sharing a tent with Bill,”

 

“How will we get to it is a better question,” Hosea says and the camp grows silent.

 

“Sail,” Bill blurts and Javier slaps him over the head, “Hey!”

 

“No shit, idiot,” Javier rolls his eyes, “He means how will twenty people be able to sail, how will the law let us leave in the first place,”

 

“If we can get money, anything is possible,” Pearson adds wisely and the camp shares a nod. They stay quiet for a moment as Arthur tries to swim over the bitter memories in his mind, Guarma, ugh he can’t even think of the name. The island itself is nice, full of wildlife and greens, but those who live on it suck major ass, in Arthur’s opinion.

 

“How much do you think it would cost?” Kieran asks hesitantly and Hosea hums thoughtfully.

 

“A lot,”

 

“Can you put a range?” Arthur asks, out of curiosity more than anything. He never really got to know how much money Dutch needed, nothing seemed to be enough.

 

“I’d say at least a two hundred thousand,” The camp collectively wince at the price, that’s almost how much they have in Blackwater.

 

Blackwater. They can get the money from Blackwater.

 

“Holy shit,” Arthur says out loud, surprising himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

“That’s suicidal!” Hosea exclaims, “I thought we agreed, we lie low for while!”

 

“I know, I know!” Arthur says defensively “There doesn’t have to be any fuss, none of us will even go near it!”

 

“What do you mean none of us will go near it?”

 

“I mean, since Trelawny, Sadie, and Kieran aren’t wanted, they’re the ones that can go get the money.”

 

“You trust _them_?” Dutch says incredulously.

 

“I trust them, yeah,” Arthur nods, tone firm, “They’ve done nothing to make me doubt their loyalty,”

 

“Kieran and Sadie have been with us for _two months_!” Dutch points out angrily and Arthur squints against the hypocrisy.

 

“I _trust_ them,” Arthur affirms and Dutch glares at him, Arthur does not waver.

 

The room remains in tense silence as Dutch and Arthur stare at each other, both too stubborn to back out. Hosea watches in interest but resolves that they need to settle this like adults.

 

“What will we lose?” Hosea breaks the silence, Dutch and Arthur jerk their heads towards him, both surprised, though Arthur feels victorious.

 

“The _money,_ perhaps?” Dutch hisses as his temper rises.

 

“We already lost it, Dutch,” Hosea answers and Dutch crumples, shoulders sagging as he nods along.

 

“We can hunt them down if they try anything,” Arthur adds quietly and Dutch looks up, “We’re just trying to get money back, I already have a backup plan if this one fails.”

 

“Okay, I trust you,” Dutch raises his hands in defeat, “First we need to move, then we can risk getting identified at Blackwater,”

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter but the next few will be a ride ;)

They move up towards Ambarino, east of Cumberland, a small, secluded spot between the trees. Mary-Beth brightens at the sight of Deer and Elks as they set up camp, Arthur gets the overwhelming urge to sketch her wide smile as she points at the antlers shed on the ground in childish happiness along with Tilly and Jack.

The move is unexpectedly jolly like they were getting shoved into the past. Their previous moves were filled with grim deaths and hurt souls but they move today, all well and healthy as they could. 

Uncle and Pearson strike up a song as John, Sean, Charles, Javier and Arthur ride as security. Javier and Swanson sing and eventually, they’re all singing along, Dutch and Hosea share a laugh as Bill swears loudly about using the wrong words. 

Javier and John trade one-offs as the singing dies down, now close to their destination. Dutch beckons Arthur and Charles to check if anyone came back, and they ride ahead. “I haven’t seen the gang this happy...ever,” Charles notes, shotgun in his hand as Arthur circles the area.

“It was like that a lot,” Arthur muses bittersweetly, “Before the first massacre,” he adds, Charles hums as they continue to scout in silence. Arthur strains against the soil’s brown color, something as passed through here, it seemed as the footprints are still fresh.

“I think something was here,” Arthur shouts, “Tell Dutch to slow down,” 

“You think you can handle it?” Charles asks as Arthur slides down his saddle, giving Barkley a loving pat and bending to examine the prints. 

“Sure, I’ve taken on worse than a-a,” He gets closer, spotting another set of prints, smaller, “Cougar?” He furrows his brows, he’d never seen a cougar around this area, “It’s some kind of cat, big cat for sure, I think it’s with a cub too,”

“Be careful,” Charles warns as he kicks off, Arthur hums, taking out his rifle from his saddle and following the trail, there’s fresh dung a few feet away from camp, he scans the area again, the trail heads in a loop and turns towards camp again. Arthur notices the broken twigs on his right, heading away from camp.

He has half a mind to let it go, but if it came back there could be casualties. He follows it, running along the trail and pausing as the sound of a twig breaking resonates, it’s coming from his right, he turns on his heel, ducking low as slim red-brown cougar steps out, pausing as it spots Arthur. 

Arthur stares back, unmoving as a smaller cougar appears and cowers under it. The older one is a female, from what he can see, and a new mother it seemed. Arthur raises his rifle, the action sets her off and she lets out a hiss that shakes Arthur’s spine and lunges forward. Arthur shoots, the cougar growls as it rolls on the ground, the cub runs away and Arthur doesn’t pay it much attention.

The adult cougar stands again, shot hitting it in the shoulder. She isn’t giving up just yet, it rears and Arthur stows his pity as he shoots it again, this time in the head, sure it’ll cut its pain short, 

 

  
“Safe now,” Arthur shouts as he rides towards the wagons, the small protection circle around breaks as they hand their rifles back and start riding again. 

“Everything alright?” Dutch asks, scanning Arthur. He has blood on his hands, but that’s because he made sure that the cougar wasn’t anywhere near camp when the rest arrived. 

“Yeah, Mommy cougar wasn’t too happy with me being close, cub ran off,” He informs, grabbing a cloth from Hosea and wiping his hands off, the tinge of red still remains as well as the coppery smell but Arthur doesn’t mind waiting to wash his hands. 

“I predict we’ll be hunting a lot,” Hosea says, excited as he jumps off the wagon, Dutch settling it in the middle of the camp spot. 

“Beautiful out here, so much fresh air!” Mary-Beth chirps as they move out the wagon, Arthur smiles as the girls happily move around the area. It’s big, spacious, bigger than Horseshoe or Clements point. Arthur can feel something loosen in his chest as Sean and Javier joke together, already seeing opportunity in this place.

“Let's make this place a home!” Dutch yells as Miss Grimshaw and Pearson starts unloading, “We should look for something to do around here,” Dutch says as Hosea and Arthur crowd around him.

“Annesburg is a dead town, poor, rude and drunk,” Arthur replied as he looks around, “Don’t know if we got too much chance there,”

“Well, what do we do?” Hosea asks and Arthur’s gaze goes skywards, like the answers all lie in the clouds. 

“I think we should send Sadie and Kieran to get the money, then we can put a plan into action.” 

“Which is?” Dutch asks as he looks at Arthur, he squirms under the scrutiny but shrugs.

“Either leave this country as a whole,” Arthur sighs as he remembers the doubtful hope he had when Dutch spoke of Tahiti, now filled with anxiety and bitterness. But this time there will be no illegal bank robberies, no one left behind and a set destination on a legally bought ticket on a good boat set to sail. If the Blackwater money doesn’t work, Arthur has Chatenay to resort to, maybe even Luis or some of the galleys he seems to be unable to escape. Lord knows he's become a monument in Saint-Denis, the ‘artist’ that caused mayhem, “Or we get new lives, farmers, didn’t you say that, Dutch? Ranchers somewhere nice and calm?” 

“I did,” Dutch nods, “But if we leave the country-”

“We go to some South Pacific Island, Javier was drooling about it, Tahiti,” Arthur cuts off, looking between Hosea and Dutch, “Some untouched paradise,”

“How will we get there?”

“Money,” Arthur blurts simply and Dutch forms a small smile, “If Blackwater doesn’t work, I have some offers down in Saint-Denis, I can paint some shit and sell it expensive.” Hosea smiles with Dutch as Arthur speaks.  
“What about the Pinkertons? You think they’ll let us leave?” Hosea asks and Dutch’s face slowly darkens at the mention, “We’re a big lot, moving will bring us much attention,”

“I don’t plan on letting them live long enough,” Arthur says darkly and Dutch stares at him weirdly.

“I thought you were righteous about revenge being foolish?” Dutch muses as Arthur crosses his arms.

“This isn’t revenge, this is necessary work, I don’t care if they tried to kill me, I just want them to be unable to catch us,” Arthur replies defensively, Dutch nods and Arthur turns to where Barkley is, along with the other horses now as Kieran hammers the hitching posts in place, “I’m going to head towards Emerald Ranch, see if anything sparks, get some food while I’m at it, need anything?” Arthur changes the subject and thankfully the duo let it slide, they both shake their heads.

“I’ll see if anything is hidden in Annesburg,” Hosea says as Arthur tips his hat in goodbye “be careful,”

“Always,”


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Some of you asked where the camp is on the map, a quick disclaimer though! The clearing the gang is staying is not on the map, though where they are supposedly is. Basically, on the map, there’s a lake called O’Creagb’s run, to its left is a deer/doe drawing, right under the L in Grizzlies. I also used the greenery we see while hunting for the Legendary Bear. Hope this helps you imagine the scenery!

Arthur wakes up slowly, for a moment he forgets himself but as the sound of the camp bustling fill his ears everything comes back. He sits up, forcing himself away from the bed as he exits his tent and stretches. Shady Belle had made him forget about how open everything is, but he doesn’t mind it too much, he’s kind of glad they’re in the wild again. Free as they can.

“Morning, Arthur,” Uncle greets as Arthur sits down and snatches a cup of coffee, Arthur tips his head in acknowledgement as he slowly becomes a person with each gulp of his coffee. Yesterday had been tiring, he almost got shot down by some hunters again, though he did get himself recognized from Saint-Denis. Apparently some ranch owner sells his cattle to Emerald Ranch’s ranchers and he was there when the bid on Arthur's art happened. Arthur had accepted the business card reluctantly and left instantly.

“Dutch! Dutch!” Bill shouts, stumbling as he bends over to catch his breath. The camp instantly stand to, Dutch, Hosea and Arthur crowding Bill as he explains hastily, “Javier- some bounty hunters down around Emerald Ranch, almost fucking killed me, got him, I-I tried but they were too many and I came here.”

“Damnit,” Dutch whispers in worry as runs a hand down his face, eyes darting around as he tries to form a plan.

"I think I can get him back, Dutch," Arthur consoles, placing a hand over Dutch's arm. Dutch looks up, staring hopefully at Arthur, "If you can spare me Sadie, I can get him back safe,"  
  
"Oh, Arthur," Ditch breaths out gratefully, "Thank you, you can take whoever you want. Just..." He trails off "Just come back alive, all of you," Arthur nods.

“I heard they’ll hold him down in Valentine,” Bill helpfully chimes in and Arthur nods, clapping his shoulder as Hosea guides him to the table, Tilly fetching him a beer. Arthur heads to Sadie, calling for her as she exits the girls tent.

“Think you up for a break out?” Arthur asks and Sadie grins widely, “I assume you heard the details,”

“Sure did,” She says innocently as she takes out her pistol, “When will we ride?” she asks and Arthur squints against the question. They should head out now, it sounded like Javier had been captured a few hours back, surely enough for them to get to Valentine.

“Now, if you’re ready,”

“Always am,”  

 

 

 

 

They ride quickly, Arthur already playing different scenarios in his mind. He didn’t bring Sadie to sneak Javier out, Charles would have been his choice. A distraction then breaking Javier out would be better, but he doesn’t want to risk leaving Sadie alone against the entire town. She’s a great gun, no doubt, but no one can escape a city wide shoot out unscathed. They stop at the edge of Valentine, sun setting low as the farmers get to their homes and Saloons get louder. Arthur can see that the Jail is heavily guarded, three upfront and one on the side he faces. He assumes another two are on the other side and back and at least the sheriff and a deputy inside. He works it out, if he can quietly take down those behind, Sadie can get the front, draw out the Sheriff and Deputy. “Alright,” He says as Sadie takes out her pistol again, Arthur pushes it down, hiding it between them as he glares at her recklessness. “I’ll go around, take the ones on the sides, you hide till I give you the sign,” He turns, hand still firmly holding Sadie’s gun down, “You wait beside the newspaper kid, buy one and act like you’re waiting for someone, once I give you the sign, take out the three men outside.” He explains quietly as Sadie listens raptly, “Try to draw out the men inside, I’ll get in, get Javier and get out, run as soon as I get out, We’ll meet at camp, anything goes wrong, head to camp immediately.”

Sadie nods and Arthur lets her go, she bids him goodluck quietly as she head to her spot and Arthur checks his guns, all loaded. He sneaks behind the general store, taking out his knife as he crouches in the dark and puts up his bandana.

“you got smokes?” One of the guard asks loudly, peaking to where the other guard is, Arthur pauses, the reply is quiet and he doesn’t get to him but the guard grunts in annoyance, “This is bullshit, can’t they just hang him? I hate this,”

“Shut it, Leo,” The guard barks from the side closest to Arthur, “You don’t get paid to whine,”

“Fucker,” Leo says quietly, but stands silent as he watches out. Arthur sneaks to the closest guard, flipping his knife and jumping on the guard, hand clasped tightly around his mouth as he stabs the man in the neck. When the guard is limp, Arthur drags him into the shadows. Leo is leaning against the jail, head propped as his gaze stays skywards. Arthur sneaks quietly, thankful for Leo’s carelessness, he jumps on him, in similar fashion to the first guard. Leo tries to kick him but Arthur has his knife in his chest before he can. Guilt coils in Arthur's chest as Leo’s eyes water, looking up at Arthur in panic as he slowly becomes limp. Arthur shoves it away, emotions have made him make bad decisions before, it’s better to feel later and work now.

He shakes his head, closes Leo’s eyes and pushes him upright against the jail. He reaches the third guard and gets surprised that he’s sitting on the ground, back against the jail and rifle lazily laying on his lap. He seems asleep, but Arthur doesn’t risk it, taking the rifle away and clasping a hand on the guard’s mouth as he jerks, eyes flying open. His scream is muffled as Arthur digs the knife deep into the back of his neck, he sighs, leaving the guard to fall and wiping his hand on his pants, rounding the jail towards where Sadie stands, moodily ignoring a man who’s flirting with her. He throws up a hand, taking out his pistol, making sure Sadie sees him. She pushes the man away, snarling something that makes the man stumble away, Arthur points to his face and she nods, putting on her hat and bandana. She turns back to Arthur who puts up three fingers, counting down as she nods, hand hovering over her pistol.

Once he reaches one, Sadie draws her guns and pushes the newspaper boy away from the gunfire about to ensue. The guards shout as Sadie shoots them down, Arthur hears thunking inside the jail and three men bust out, rifles out as they run towards where Sadie is now taking cover. Arthur shoots two men down before ducking into the jail, spotting Javier standing eagerly clutching the bars of his cell, “Well, isn’t it a small world?” Arthur jokes as he scans the desks for the keys, checking one drawer before deciding they don’t have the time, gunshots getting more frequent as Sadie war screams as she shoots. He picks the lock quickly, Javier clapping his shoulder as he beelines to his confiscated equipment.

Arthur steps out first, shooting two men who flanked Sadie, “Come on!” he shouts, Javier running from behind him to where his horse has been hitches, Arthur whistles to his horse eyes darting in alertness, afraid that someone will shoot down Barkley. Arthur notices the horse running bravely towards him, Arthur runs towards it, mounting quickly as Barkley kicks off, seemingly sensing his urgency.

Sadie shoots a man down before whistling for her horse, Arthur shoots to cover with Javier as Sadie mounts Bob and they kick off. “Lets split up!” Arthur shouts as they ride out of Valentine, men following on their horses, “Take a scenic route,”

Arthur heads north, Sadie east and Javier west. It was easy enough to loose the men, a couple of shots near them sent them reeling towards Valentine with their tails between their legs. He worries himself about Javier and Sadie as he rides back to camp. He slips his bandana off, taking in a deep breath and pulling off the road, Barkley now tired from the run. Arthur brushes him lovingly, giving him two oat cakes and letting him rest for a few moments as Arthur stretches, back popping as he sighs. Barkley huffs happily as Arthur rubs between his ears and mounts him again, riding him in a trot as they continue towards camp.

 

 

 

Javier and Sadie are back safely when he Arthur arrives, Javier is with Charles, happily drinking and eating. Sadie is sitting on the edge of the camp, cleaning her guns. Hosea brightens as Arthur steps deeper into the camp, he takes a seat between John and Bill, who’re resting silently while listening to Uncle retell stories from his youth. Mostly inappropriate.

“Good job,” Dutch compliments as Arthur smiles slightly, “Another job well executed,”Arthur touches the seam of his hat in response.

“We got liquor!” Sean yells excitedly as Karen walks behind him, “Some dull folk down near Rhodes, was easy enough to pick the wagon off,”

“Easy?” Karen says incredulously, Sean grins widely as she breaks into a rant, “I had to shoot two men that were about to kill your ass, dummy,”

“Didn’t happen, did it? I’d say that’s easy,” Sean retorts and Karen huffs, “Come on, sugar, we’re fine, we got the liquor and we’re going to drink it! I’d count that as a success.”

“Whatever, give me a bottle,” She resolves and Sean laughs victoriously, grabbing one of the bottles in the sack he has over his shoulder and hands it to her.

 

 

  

Day breaks as Arthur writes down in his journal,sketching the sunrise. He sits close to camp, in a clearing on the side of the road. No one really passes through and so Arthur lets his guard fall, not really minding the nature sounds around him as it starts to get brighter and brighter. He can see Pearson and Grimshaw toiling around camp as they prepare coffee and breakfast, Cain barks at Grimshaw until she agrees to pat him.

“Arthur,” Hosea greets, figure appearing from between the trees, face still wet from washing. Arthur raises a hand in silent greeting as he closes his journal and starts to stand, but Hosea stops him, motioning him to sit back down and taking a seat beside him.

“It’s nice out here,” Arthur notes as Hosea leans back, arms behind him as he soaks in the sun peacefully, “Didn’t know I was suffocating in Shady till I started to breathe again,”

“You never really let yourself rest, while in Shady, I’m not really surprised,” Hosea replies and Arthur huffs, “When will you let yourself live, instead of worrying yourself about others?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Arthur denies defensively and Hosea side eyes him, he knows he’s a good lier, but he learned from the best and so, Hosea can figure him out quickly. Arthur doesn’t wear his heart on his sleeve, but Hosea knows where to look for the clues, he raises an eyebrow at Arthur and Arthur looks away.

“I’m not a fool, Arthur,” Hosea says simply, Arthur smiles, about to say something but Hosea continues, “Ever since Blackwater, you’ve been taking a lot of jobs, more than you used to. I see how you look at the gang, like you know something is about to happen,”

“That’s because I do,” Arthur blurs, wincing when he realized he said that out loud. Hosea looks at him, pushing himself upright and waiting for Arthur expectedly.

“What do you know?”

“Nothing you’d believe,”

“Try me,” Hosea challenges and Arthur squirms in his place, rocking to the side as he weighs the pros and cons of telling Hosea. Worst case scenario he tells him he’s paranoid, best case scenario they get Micah dead or away.

“Micah is ratting us to the Pinkertons,” Arthur sighs, shoulders dropping as if he’s been caught guilty. Hosea stays silent and Arthur continues, “I suppose I think it’s since Blackwater, but I’m not sure. I do know he’s behind the Pinkertons finding us in Shady,”

Hosea hums, leaning forward more towards Arthur, “I believe you,” He says quietly, “Believe it or not, it’s not so hard to imagine Micah ratting us out,” Hosea adds as he straightens, “I do find it strange that he was never there during our most important fights. And the stunt he pulled while breaking you out, you should’ve seen how Dutch was.”

“Dutch?” Arthur asks in disbelief, Hosea nods, eyebrows knitted tight together.

“Yeah, Dutch was righteously angry,” Hosea nods his head absentmindedly as he explains, “Long shouting match that was, Micah looked like he’s about to soil,” Arthur grins at the mental picture, he always loved when the little snake showed how cowardly he is, “Dutch swore his entire existence, quiet entertaining to watch Micah drag his sorry ass out and apologize to Dutch like he’s begging God,”

“Damn, wish I saw that,” Arthur says wishfully and Hosea smiles as Arthur relaxes, not even knowing he was winded up.

“How long have you known?” Hosea asks after a beat of silence and Arthur sighs.

“Long time, I think I always felt wrong about Micah riding with us, but I knew he ratted us after the meeting with Colm,” He doesn’t believe what Milton said, too many things add up before Guarma ever happened. Micah had something to do with how they found them in Horseshoe, he truly believes so.

“I never really liked him, no one does,” Hosea adds idly, “He always tries to woo the girls and bothers the others. I don’t understand what type of agenda he has, or if he really is that blind to his own personality,”

“Oh, he knows he’s a shit human being, proud of it, calls it survival or something,” Arthur says as he digs his heel into the dirt, “I wish he’d leave, before he ruins us, we’re already dying, with all the chasing, feeling like goddamn mice. With him tearing us down, telling the Pinkertons our every move.” Arthur rants, tone turning aggressively as anger slowly seeps through the cracks. His hand urges him to hold his gun, shoot the bastard as soon as he can but he _can’t_ not _yet_ anyway. He has to find a motive, has to find a good reason that everyone can see. Sooner or later, Micah will slip up, he’s a maniac, if not a psychopath, eventually the chase will be tiring and he will slip up, will be careless and reckless. And _then_ Arthur can strike.

“We can’t do nothing about it,” Hosea quips as he looks towards camp, “We can’t risk internal turmoil now, Micah has been told where we are, if he’s smart he would tell just yet,”

“Yeah, but for how long will we wait?” Arthur asks dejectedly, and Hosea placed an arm on his shoulder.

“We’ll figure it out, we won’t let him be the end of us,” He assures as he stands, Arthur following.

 


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two chapters in one day? weird right?
> 
> Tell me what you feel about having different endings (two),both happy but drastically different, published instead of one set ending?

Mary-Beth speaks.

 

That’s the highlight of Arthur’s night, she speaks with elegance and shyness as she reads out her most recent story. Kieran moon-eyes her, looking like a fool in love, it warms Arthur’s heart at the innocence of their love, adds more gasoline to the fire burning inside him, conviction flaring. The need to protect those who have fallen into this life without meaning to, Kieran didn’t have a family, Mary-Beth lost hers. Most of the girls, save for Karen, wouldn’t choose this life, he can almost imagine it, Tilly and Mary-Beth being some fancy high society women.

He knows Mary would be a writer, her ‘silly dream’ she calls it. Tilly has a soul bright and clever, Abigail wishes for a simple life, she always says, living in an actual house and raising her son right.

They can actually do that, he doesn’t know where they ended up in his last lifetime, but he hopes they’re okay, safe at least. Mary clears her throat as she turns the page and reads softly again, Arthur doesn’t know what the story is about, but he guesses it’s a romance, Alan and Jade, some type of tortured love where they fight the impossible. Kinda funny, why? Arthur cannot decide.

The camp is silent as everyone enjoys the peaceful moment, Pearson even leaves his station to sit with them and listen to Mary’s tales. He can tell she’s nervous about the attention, cheeks blushed bright red as she constantly glances over them, smiling nervously at Arthur then Kieran and back. Arthur wonders if she can end up as a writer, he might not be paying attention to the plot, but she twists words in a pleasant way, makes Arthur feel emotions he should not as they don’t belong to him. Jade is jaded and weary of love, previous lover leaving her and Alan is boisterous and charming, but shy and caring underneath. From what Arthur can tell, the couple meet and Jade is instantly hooked but too weary to speak to him, Alan is engaged but falls mesmerized by Jade and so the story gets filled with affairs, betrayal, and sadness. Some of the scenes she describes and the turmoil she speaks makes Arthur’s heart lurch.

He doesn’t understand why she doesn’t recognize her own talent.

She clears her throat, a signal that she’s done and Hosea claps and congratulates her, Kieran runs up to her eagerly and they share a few words before they break off bashfully, both a bright shade of red. Fucking adorable, Arthur thinks, they’re acting like two fools in love, which they are, he can’t wait till they get over themselves and get together. Mary walks towards him as Kieran heads to the horses.

“So?” She asks hopefully and Arthur grins, she sighs happily at the response.

“Beautiful, will you finish it?” He asks and Mary looks away, “Come on, you have to! What will Jade do at Alan’s wedding?”

“Oh I don’t know, Arthur,” She says airily and takes a seat beside Arthur, “I got this offer, some man named Kilo Lopero read my draft and he wanted me to sell it to him and publish it,”

“That’s great!” Arthur cheers but Mary shakes her head, “It’s not?”

“It is,” She corrects quickly, “I just don’t know, what if it doesn’t sell?”

“Mary-Beth, I don’t read much but that was one of the best stories I’ve heard in a long time,” Arthur assures, maybe exaggerating a bit but he knows with a bit of guidance she can rock this world with her literature.

“Really?” Mary asks, brightening, “You think I should take it?”

“I mean, sure! Under a fake name though, don’t know who might recognize you,” Arthur advises and Mary nods eagerly, “Would you look at that,” Arthur chuckles to himself, “You’re going to be a writer, I’m an artist, what’s next? Dutch as the president?”

Mary giggles beside him as they share a laugh, she calms and places a hand on Arthur’s arm, “Thank you, Arthur,”

“Anything for you,” Arthur tilts his head as he stands, “I’ll be heading now, we’ll talk more later,” Arthur bids his goodbye and heads to Sadie.

“Adler!” he yells and she turns, using her hat to fan herself as she puts down the chicken she was holding, “Come on, we’ve got work to do,” Arthur motions her over and shouts for Kieran to follow them.

 

 

 

 

“So we _don’t_ shoot?” Sadie says dejectedly as Arthur looks up from the Blackwater map he set up.

“Yes, Sadie, I know you don’t like it, but if we’re going to pull this off, we need you to keep your guns down.” He repeats firmly and Sadie nods, “It should be in a chest, brown, battered most probably, right here,” He points to the map and Sadie gets closer, Kieran beside her, “Now, anyone asks, you’re just looking for some property to buy,”

“Alright, sound good,” Sadie nods as she steps back.

“Now, one more time, from the top,” Arthur steps away from the table as Sadie rolls her eyes, “Come on, don’t be pissy,”

“Fine,” Sadie resolves, “My name is Kelly Klein, this is my husband, Jason Klein, he’s a businessman in Saint-Denis and we’re visiting Blackwater for our new home, our _salvation._ ” She drawls sarcastically as Kieran smiles quietly, “We’ll go to your old campsite, get the chest, get into the carriage with Trelawney and get out,”

“And no guns,” Kieran adds, Sadie jerks her head to the sides as she rolls her eyes again.

“And _no guns_ ,”

“Good,” Arthur nods, “Trelawney will be here tomorrow morning, Kieran, go buy a suit, Sadie, dress up,” Arthur directs as Kieran shuffles out Arthur’s tent and Sadie follows, “I trust you’ll do good,” Arthur says quietly, “I know you won’t betray us, but, as a precaution, you know what we can do,” Arthur raises his hands as Sadie turns to him.

“I’ll get the money back, Arthur,” She assures and Arthur smiles, glad she isn’t offended by his weariness, eyes trailing behind her as she walks away.

“You get yourself and that boy back safe,” Arthur shouts and Sadie throws up her thumbs, Arthur smiles, turning and heading towards where Hosea and Dutch speak in hushed tones, “Ain’t you secretive?” Arthur asks, standing a few inches away so that he’d give them space to dismiss him.

“Arthur,” Dutch greets, hand motioning him to sit, “We weren’t talking about much, though, how is the Blackwater job coming?”

“Plan good, Sadie and Kieran are getting ready, Trelawney will be here by six to pick them up. Should take utmost a week.”

“Good, good,” Dutch nods, “With that much money, we can start a new, live our lives,” Dutch says wishfully and Arthur smirks.

“Mary-Beth is going to be a writer,”

“And you’ll be an artist?” Dutch asks jokingly and Arthur huffs a laugh.

“I don’t know, got many offers, I can’t be an Outlaw now. Everywhere I go, I’m Arthur Callahan,” Arthur complains, digging out the business cards he received from various people, “Look at these fools, all asking me for paintings while I got none. Might be the best con we pulled off,”

“Huh,” Hosea drags the cards towards him, “Chataney, Kilroy, Lopes?” He reads out as Arthur nods, “Seems like you can really pull off this artist thing,”

“Nah, they just heard the fuss, they’ll get real surprised if they see an actual painting,” Arthur waves off and Dutch chuckles, “What?” Arthur asks defensively, crossing his arms.

“I always said you weren’t dull, but it seems you’re not smart either,” Dutch points a finger at him, “Listen, son, you’ve got a talent, a real one, not one related to crime,” Dutch leans forward, conviction filling his eyes as if he desperately wants Arthur to believe. He’d seen this look before, but not for him to believe in himself, it makes his throat clog up with emotion, “I’m sure, if you hadn’t been dragged into this life, you would’ve made a name for yourself,”

“I’m glad I’m in _this life,_ ” Arthur replies quickly, almost automatically, “I can make a name for myself now, I just… I don’t find it interesting to paint, draw? Sure, but I ain’t no show pony. I’m not, I ain’t like those folk who like to show off their work, I’d rather keep it to myself,” he explains, all in one breath, he can feel the camp perking at the sound of possible drama but he doesn’t pay it much, one way or another the gossip will spread, “I’m glad I found this gang, glad we’re a family, even if Y'all never stay in your business,” he says loudly, Tilly quickly returns to washing the clothes in her hands and Pearson pointedly chopping a pork chop as loud as he can, “you’re still better than what I had,” not that he remembers if his momma was nice or not, but he sure knows his father wasn’t.

Dutch leans back slowly, but smiles warmly at Arthur, “I know, Arthur, I’m glad we found you when we did,” Arthur nods once, mind racing to change the subject.

“Who wants to play poker?” John calls, Arthur thanks whatever god Swanson believes in as he bids a curt goodbye and flees to where John hosts the poker game.

 

 

 

“Good luck,” Arthur wishes as he helps Sadie into the carriage, “Anything go wrong, you run, lie low and try to come back, send a letter.”

“I know, Arthur,”

“We’ll go look for you if Y'all don’t come back within a week,” Arthur leans against the carriage, “Come back safe, if it's too risky, forget the money,”

“Nothing will happen, Arthur,” Sadie assures, “you’ve got two fine guns riding, and I just know Trelawney can slither his way out and get y’alls help if needed,” she says confidently, Trelawney lifts his head in good humor, “Everything will be fine,” she says firmly, reaching a hand to squeeze his shoulder, “We’ll back, richer than ever,”

“Hopes and dreams,” Arthur says, but smiles anyway as he steps back, “Alright, Mr. Klein, Mrs. Klein, we’ll be awaiting your return,”

“See you soon,” Sadie says as Arthur closes the carriage door, Trelawney waves his goodbye as they kick off, a small seed of worry plants itself in Arthur’s chest. He has an inkling that he’ll live with it for the rest of the week. He sends a small prayer, to whoever is hearing, that they come back safe, money or no money.


	17. Chapter 17

Arthur can feel the camp hold its breath, everyone is worried and paranoid again, jolly vibes missing. Everyone speaks in hushed tones about the possibilities, even Dutch’s speech about getting out of the shadows and beginning new bright lives doesn’t help much. It suffocates Arthur unexpectedly, he feels spent, reason unknown.

 

He sits on his bed, tent closed as he doesn’t want anyone asking him about Sadie and Kieran. He’s worried too, of course, he is, they could be dead right now and they wouldn’t know till later, or maybe never. But he doesn’t voice it and so he stays silent, the gossip continues. Hosea had advised him to stay in camp this week as much as he can, many looking worried when he goes close to Barkley. He knows they depend on him, somehow he’d managed to make them feel safe while he’s around, he _is_ the enforcer of the gang.

 

He sketches in the sketchbook Dutch had bought him for the gallery gig, he found himself thinking about Chataney, about the offer. He needs to put work into his backup plan, he knows he can probably work a few months and if he’s lucky, he can get enough money. He draws things he hasn’t talked about, people who he hasn’t seen in this timeline. Charlotte, the German family, the girl they found in Beaver’s hollow, he draws their shadows, he can remember Charlotte quiet well, he almost felt attached to her.

 

She had seen kindness in him, something he always was taken back by. She talked to him like he was a human and he could see the fierceness behind her eyes. She reminds him of Sadie, but a tamed version. He wonders if her husband had died in this timeline too.

 

Arthur pauses for a moment, a quick flash of horror passing him as he realized that the people he had saved back in his past life had not been saved here. He has half a mind to try and align the dates, and the other half races to drown him in guilt. He snaps the sketchbook closed and grabs his hat, determined to at least take a look around. Just to put his mind at rest. The camp look at him as he tries to walk slowly across camp, he doesn’t want to alarm them, they’re already scared. He pats Barkley, mounting him quickly and unhitches and starts to head out camp.

 

Hosea looks at him questioningly, Arthur rounds his horse and spots Tilly and Abigail looking at him expectedly, “Anyone want anything from town?” He asks calmly and they relax, Tilly settling back beside Mary-Beth and reading over her shoulder, Pearson tells him they’re low on canned goods and he nods, turning and leaving camp as slow and normal as he can.

 

It lasts all of three strides beside Arthur sets off running with Barkley, who shakes his head at the sudden change in speed but doesn’t complain much as Arthur soothes him. He heads up north, near where he’d found Charlotte before and realizes that he is truly worried for her sake, he can feel his heart beating as he rides through the trees, not even paying attention as he rides by pure muscle memory.

 

He slows as he finds the grave he first met Charlotte beside, it has fresh flowers on it and so he feels something loosen as he realizes she’s still alive. He slides down his saddle, walking slowly towards the grave and stopping when he heard the familiar cocking of a shotgun. Arthur raises his hands, turning slowly as he faces Charlotte. There she stands, soot covering her as she points the gun at Arthur shakily.

 

“Ma’am,” Arthur says slowly, “I’m not here to hurt you,” he assures and Charlotte scans him, eyes lingering on his pistols. Arthur looks down at himself then up again, “You can take them away, I won’t do anything, I promise,” he puts his hands behind his head, linking them together and giving her his back. Arthur waits patiently, hears as Charlotte slowly walks, towards him and after a beat of silence, he feels the weight of his guns disappear from his waist. The hears the thud of his guns as he turns again slowly.

 

“What are you doing here?” Charlotte asks, voice shaking as she holds the shotgun tightly, “What do you want?”

 

“Nothing, Ma’am, I was- I was just passing through,” Arthur slowly drops his hands, Charlotte decides that she believes him and drops her guns, “You don’t look too well if you don’t mind me saying,”

 

“Yeah, well, I’m slowly starving to death,” She sighs, “I managed to find some berries that are _not_ poisonous, but not much luck with anything else,” She explains as she stands beside her husbands grave, Arthur listens silently, hands linked together as he waits for his chance, “Not even a rat,”

 

“I can help,” He says, and Charlotte shakes her head, “you ain’t gone survive much longer if you don’t learn to hunt,” he says as he bends to grab his gun, Charlotte looks at him in alarm, but it subsides as Arthur tucks one of his pistols in its holster, “Come on, I’ll teach you somethings,”

 

“Don’t try nothing, I won’t think twice about shooting you,” She warns as she points her shotgun at Arthur for a moment, lowering it before following him.

 

“Sure thing, Miss,” Arthur says quietly as he squints, searching the ground for any prints, he bends slightly as he spots the footprint of a deer, looks like a lone one, “there, you see that?” Arthur points to the prints and Charlotte comes closer, shotgun now slung on her back.

 

“Prints?” she says and Arthur nods.

 

“We’ll follow that, hopefully, it won’t be too far and we can shoot it down quickly,” He explains as he starts to walk beside the prints, Charlotte follows silently, “You’re not squeamish are you?” he asks and Charlotte shakes her head.

 

“No, not anymore,” Arthur doesn’t ask, putting a hand in front of Charlotte to stop her. He points towards the deer, sniffing around in the dirt for food.

 

“Here,” Arthur puts his pistol in Charlotte’s hand, holding it steadily towards the deer, “Aim for the head, breathe in,” he pauses as he follows his own advice, aiming the gun for Charlotte, “exhale and,” he shoots a bullet, the deer falls in a heap and Charlotte gasps as the gun falls to the ground.

 

“God,” she says as she breathes out, “That’s...That’s good shooting, Mister,” she says as she stands.

 

“That should keep you well fed for at least a few days,” Arthur informs as he leads Charlotte to the fallen deer, “You ever skin a deer before?” He asks and Charlotte shakes her head, “Come on, look,” He takes out his knife and presses it to the beginning of the deer’s chest, “Start up here, then cut down its body,” he explains as he cuts horizontally down the deer’s body. Charlotte suppresses her disgust badly as the waft of guts hits her, Arthur doesn’t comment as he lifts up the deer’s leg, “Cut here too, on each leg,” he says, “then, it should tear easy, you may need to use your knife a bit to separate the skin and muscle cleanly, but its not that hard, see?”

 

“Yes, yes,” Charlotte nods as Arthur pulls the last of the skin off the deer, leaving it bleeding on the ground, “thank you,”

“It’s no problem,” Arthur says as he hauls the deer onto his back, “You got somewhere you can keep this?” he asks and Charlotte leads him towards her cabin.

 

“You’re the only one who helped,” Charlotte says out of the blue, Arthur looks at her but she doesn’t, “Some men ran through here, they wanted me...”

 

“Did they hurt you?” Arthur asks, breath catching for a moment, he knows how some men can be with women. Especially when they’re alone, in the middle of nowhere and scared.

 

“No, I-I shot at them and they ran, thank god,” She says with a shake of her head, “To be completely truthful, I wasted all of the ammo we-I had on them,” She admits and Arthur purses his lips, “I’m just thankful you’re not like them, god knows I wouldn’t have been able to nothing,”

 

“I’m glad I could help,” Arthur says, finally seeing the cabin close, Charlotte leads him in silence and Arthur drops the deer on the front step, “Here, miss,” Arthur digs into his satchel, taking out two shotgun shell boxes he’d bought recently, “For precaution, hunting, and guns, that’s what matters up here,” he advises and Charlotte takes the ammo gratefully.

 

“Oh, thank you, Mister...”

 

“Morgan, Arthur Morgan,” He supplies and Charlotte nods.

 

“Charlotte Balfour,”

 

“I should go, you got money?” Arthur asks and Charlotte looks at him weirdly, “I can give you some, I got enough,” he adds to clarify and Charlotte smiles.

 

“I’ve got enough, thank you,”

 

“No trouble, take care,” he waves as he whistles for Barkley.

 

 

 

“Back,” Arthur announces as he dismounts and juggles the bags in his arms, he’d hit Annesburg and stocked up on some things, Pearson helps him as he grabs the meat bags and sets them on his station. He heads to the women’s tent and hands them the Lister towels he’d overheard them complaining about, Mary-Beth turns a bright shade of red and quickly hides the bag, Arthur doesn’t have much to say and so he leaves.

 

He can see that most men are in camp and he’s already bored and doesn’t think he’s up to leave again, “Anyone up for some Five Finger?” He shouts and some heads perk up, “Come on, we’ll even put a pot on it,” Arthur encourages as he takes a seat.

 

“Can’t say no,” Micah says and Arthur raises an eyebrow, he hadn’t even noticed he’s back.

 

“Alright, come on,” Arthur challenges, “You start,”

 

“I’ll keep the time,” John volunteers as he drags a chair and sits at the side of the table.

 

Micah starts at the end of John’s count, he does three rounds before John calls the twenty seconds and it’s Arthur’s turn, “Easy enough,” Arthur says under his breath as he readies his knife, he focuses and John starts the count. Arthur’s eyes are trained on the space between his fingers, he counts five rounds before John calls him to stop. He smirks up at Micah who whines but puts a dollar on the pot, and another round it is. Arthur puts down a matching dollar and John calls for Micah to ready.

 

They go on, Arthur losing one round when Jack comes around to peak at what they’re doing but wins the others, they start to get competitive as the pot grows richer, now at the ten dollar mark, as they play with almost closed hands, one mistake and you’re out. Micah is focused, face in an ugly scowl as he plays his round, fifteen seconds, he does three rounds.

 

Arthur takes his turn, he doesn’t know why but he’s set on winning this, maybe its the fact that its Micah and a childish part of him wants to show him, maybe its the fact that the camp is watching raptly and he doesn’t want to lose in front of them.

 

He plays safe and gets a rhythm before finishing fast, he beats Micah by one lap and cheers internally. Micah lets out a frustrated cuss and puts up his hands in defeat, “You won, I guess,” He says as he stands and Arthur smirks victoriously.

 

He stands and stretches his shoulders, pocketing the money and grinning at John, “You were always good at this,”

 

“I grew up playing it, it’d be a dumbass not to at least be decent at it,” He shrugs and John nods, “kinda like swimming,”

 

“Oh shut up,” John laughs as Arthur rounds to stand beside him, “I can’t be good at everything,”

 

“How about you start with _something,_ ” Arthur chuckles as John waves a hand dismissively, “How you holding up?” he asks after a beat, “With Jack, and all.”

 

“I’m-I’m trying,” he sighs, “I took him out to watch the bison with Charles, he seemed to like it,”

 

“That’s good,” Arthur grins and John looks up at him doubtfully, “I’m glad you’re starting, John, like I said, small steps,”

 

“Yeah, I guess,”

 

“I’m proud of you,” Arthur says quietly, setting a hand on John’s shoulder, “I know you’ll do great, things do seem to like going right for you,” he jokes and John cracks a smile.

 

“Thanks, Arthur,”


	18. Chapter 18

"Has anyone seen Hosea?" Dutch asks as Arthur sets down the axe, wood now finally chopped.   
  
"Last I heard, he was in Annesburg," Sean answers and Dutch nods, "That was yesterday though,"  
  
"He hasn't come back?" Dutch asks with a worried frown, Arthur waits in silence as the worry spreads.   
  
"No," Sean shakes his head and Arthur clears his throat.  
  
"I'll go look, he probably got tired and rented a room or something," he assures a lie that helps no one's concern. Hosea doesn't sleep outside the camp, he's always here to take care of business if needed. Dutch nods and Arthur grabs his hat from his bed and checks on his pistols.  
  
"Bring him back when you find him," Dutch says and Arthur nods, holding eye contact for a second as his message translates. Come back when you find him. _Only_ when you find him.  
  
Arthur didn't plan on coming back alone.

 

  
  
He rides up to Annesburg, heading straight to the Saloon to ask around, someone must've seen or heard something. Annesburg isn't exactly big, and few new folks come around.   
  
Arthur leans against the bar, pushing a coin towards the bartender as she pours him a whiskey, "Say," he starts and she lends him her attention, "You see a man around here? Old, kinda charming, wearing a blue vest?"   
  
"You mean Mister Perkins?" She asks as she brightens, "He was here yesterday, but left when some drunken fools picked up a fight with him,"  
  
"Did he tell you where he went?" Arthur asks this doesn't vote well, a fight up here could be many gangs, most likely the Murfree's. He shivers at the image of the mutilated bodies they'd seen in Beaver's Hollow.   
  
"No, I hope he's well though, those men didn't stick around much after he left,"   
  
"Shit," he mutters as his head drops and the bartender cocks her head in concern, "thank you, for the help and whiskey," Arthur bids as he pushes himself and starts to head to the door when she calls after him.  
  
"If you need anything, me and my boys will be glad to help," She offers, "Mister Perkins helped me, I want to return the favor if I can,"  
  
"Sure," Arthur lies, he knows Hosea would appreciate the sentiment, still he doesn't want to put innocent folk in this mess. He leaves quickly, searching for any clue that Hosea is still around. He searches for Silver Dollar but to no avail and so he resorts to asking the general public. He gets a lot of scoffs and people being generally unhelpful and by the time he's finished asking the entire street, he's about to rip his own hair out.  
  
"Arthur Morgan?" Someone says as Arthur leans against the general store, Arthur looks up sharply at his name, "You looking for your friend?"  
  
"Who's asking?" Arthur straightens, defensive as the man sizes him up.  
  
"Nobody, to you anyway," he says as he digs out a paper from his pocket, "they told me to give you this letter and leave,"   
  
"Who's they?" Arthur asks and the man shrugs.  
  
"Some men, O'd- something," The man raises a dismissive hand, "I don't know, I'm just a messenger, I'm not even getting paid,"   
  
"I'll know if you're lying to me," Arthur threatens and the man nods.  
  
"I've been told you're not to be messed with," He says as he raises a hand, “I don’t want to die, I ain’t got nothing to lose,” Arthur nods, waving the man off as he opens the letter.

_I told you not to mess with us, this is payback._

 

_C O_

Arthur squints as he turns the letter over, nothing, this isn’t Colm breaking a deal. He pushes down the dread that fills his chest as he tucks the letter in his jacket and whistles for Barkley.

 

 

 

He doesn’t know what to do, where to look, he doesn’t have a clue on where to find Hosea and it runs him cold as he mounts and stares blankly at Barkley’s mane. He can ride towards Valentine, he knows that a lot of O’driscoll boys go around that area. He can pick one off and get some information. He should probably tell Dutch, but he doesn’t want him going off.

 

Arthur knows that Dutch cherishes Hosea over all of them, however much he loves Arthur, he loves Hosea ten times more. He thinks now in hindsight, Hosea’s death had unhinged him before. He rides towards camp, stepping off of Barkley and silently thanking god as he spots Charles by the campfire. “Charles,” he greets hurriedly, and he instantly gains not only Charles but the entire camp’s attention. He can admit that his voice shakes a little bit, but he has the right to be worried, “Ride with me? I need your help, please,”

 

“Of course,” Charles pushes himself to his feet, grabbing his knife and shotgun as they walk towards the horses again, “What’s wrong?”

 

“I’ll tell you, just not-” he looks over his shoulder as they get farther away from the camp, “not here,”

 

“Okay,” Charles nods.

 

Arthur kicks off, trying to shoot down any doubts in his mind. Hosea can very well be dead, the only thing that keeps him hopeful is that he _knows_ Colm loves to draw things out. He’d take an injured Hosea over a dead one any day, the good between two evils.

 

“Where we heading?” Charles asks and Arthur passes him a glance.

 

“Valentine,” He answers and slows down, “They have Hosea, Colm has him. We-we’re going to get him back,” He explains briefly, Charles nods, “I think it’ll take at least a day to go there, we can set up camp or book a room in Valentine. I’ll go find some O’driscolls and get some answers then-then we’ll get him back.”

 

“Okay,” Charles says calmly, “If we ride without stopping, I think we can get there by sunset,”

 

“Yeah, okay, come on,”

 

 

 

 

 

They reach Valentine as the sky darkens, Arthur wages whether he should retire for the day or go out looking for O’driscolls. “We can go take a look,” Charles says softly, putting Arthur at ease. He knows he can run himself to the ground till he finds Hosea, but he doesn’t want to drag Charles down with him. He’s thankful and unnerved at how well Charles can read him after only such little time together.

 

“We can split up,” Arthur suggests and Charles shakes his head.

 

“We’d better stick together,” Charles replies as he rides beside Arthur, “Which way should we start?’

 

“Let’s head up north and then circle around,”

 

“Sounds good,” Charles agrees. And so they ride, Arthur keeps a lookout for any smoke, hand clutching his reigns tightly. He can feel his shoulder ache with how tight he’s holding himself, he can’t lose Hosea, not now. He doesn’t want him to die, captured, tortured and alone. He doesn’t deserve that, he just  _doesn’t_.

 

None of them are good people, they have potential, but they are not using it. Still, none of them deserve to die so tragically.

 

“Look,” Charles points at the sky, “Heavy smoke, someone’s there,” Arthur nods, taking out his rifle and slinging it over his shoulder as they trot towards the smoke, “You think I should do the talking?” Charles asks and Arthur shakes his head.

 

“I’ll handle it,” Arthur grunts as they dismount and head to where the small camp is set up, he slows, not wanting to alarm anyone if they’re not O’driscolls.

 

“You think it’ll work? I mean, you saw what they did to Liam and the others,” A man’s voice travels and Arthur pauses, Charles behind them as they crouch in the shadows.

 

“If anything, it’s revenge, they killed my brother, your cousin,” another man answers and Arthur steps closer, motioning for Charles to stay in place.

 

“I just don’t want to die,”

 

“Shouldn’t have joined a gang then,” the man answers curtly and silence ensues, Arthur holds his rifle tight as he exits the shadows, Charles a step behind as they point their guns at the two men sitting around the campfire.

 

“Holy shit,” One of the O’driscoll says as he stands up, Arthur quick to push him back down with the butt of his rifle.

 

“Hosea Mathews, you have him,” Arthur grits out, “Where is he?” the O’driscoll's look at each other as Charles steps closer, shotgun trained on the second O’driscoll.

 

“We won’t tell you nothing,” the O’driscoll spits at Arthur's feet and looks Arthur in the eye defiantly. Arthur kicks him in the chest, switching with Charles as he takes the younger looking O’driscoll.

 

“You will when I tear you apart!” Arthur threatens, feet pressing harshly on the man's chest. The O’driscoll grasps at his calf and Arthur pushes his hands away with the muzzle of his rifle.

 

“Just tell him, Carter,” The younger O’driscoll stammers, “it ain’t worth it!”

 

“Shut it!” the O’driscoll under Arthur’s feet growls, “you’re a goddamn disgrace, Colm saved us!”

 

“And now he’s about to be the end of us!” the young man pleads, “Mister, please, he’s the only family I got left, I don’t know where they have him, please,”

 

“Daniel!” Carter shouts, silencing the other man, “We won’t say shit,”

 

Arthur looks at Daniel, they stare at each other for a moment. He’s young, maybe early twenties, still growing and learning, doesn’t look like a bad man.

 

“I won’t kill him if you tell us where Colm is at,” Arthur says and Carter scoffs, “You might not know it, but it looks like your friend here does,”

 

“I won’t tell you,” Carter is quick to reply as Daniel sighs in frustration.

 

“Buddy, I killed your friends for a lot less, so _don’t_ test me!” Arthur stomps on his stomach, enough to hurt him but not inflict lethal damage. He doesn’t want to kill him, Daniel doesn’t look like he wanted to be an outlaw, seems like the entire family had been at some point.

 

“Carter!” Daniel cries out, reaching forwards but Charles stops him.

 

“Don’t” Charles warns calmly, “We just want our friend back, no one has to die today,”

 

“Carter, please just tell them,”

 

“Then what? Go back to Colm and have _him_ kill us?” Carter grits out, Arthur takes in a deep breath.

 

“Colm won’t give a fuck if you never show your face again, he’ll just assume you died and replace you,” Arthur says, Daniel nods in approval as Carter looks between them, “Just leave the town or something, take your last remaining family and go, just tell us where our friend is,”

 

The two O’driscolls look at each other as silence falls over them, “Big Valley, a cabin up there, they were planning on killing him and sending his body to Blackwater,” Carter resolves and Arthur steps back, gun still aiming at Carter.

 

“Thank you,” Arthur says as they walk back into the woods, “now get going,”

 

 

 

 

“So what’s our plan?” Charles asks as they ride into West Elizabeth, “We need to play this safe, we don’t know what’s waiting for us there,”

 

“Yeah,” Arthur agrees, they pull aside off the road to plan, “We need rest, as much as I don’t like it,” Arthur admits, it’s around midnight, now, they’ve been traveling all day and they won’t be any use to Hosea if they’re tired and spent.

 

“I’ll get a fire going,” Charles says as they lead their horses into the trees, “We can leave around dawn,”

 

“Yeah, okay,” Arthur nods as he pulls his bedroll from Barkley’s saddle, he pulls out celery from the saddlebag and feeds it to Barkley, tucking the bedroll under his arm as he runs a hand down Barkley’s neck and mane, “You’re a tough one, boy,” Arthur mutters as Barkley turns to him, he sets a hand on Barkley’s jaw and scratches gently, “Thank you,”

 


	19. Chapter 19

Arthur doesn’t sleep easy, barely catches two hours before he gives up and starts setting up hypothetical plans. Charles wakes at the break of dawn, they share a meager breakfast and drink as much coffee as they can as they tear the camp down, rolling their bedrolls and kicking sand onto the fire.

They don’t speak much except for arranging that Charles will ride Hosea back to Valentine and Arthur will follow. They ride around Big Valley, scouting for any sign of life around. Charles catches a trail but it turns out to be a wild horse and they continue their search. Arthur keeps himself contained himself as much as he can, hand flexing as he tries to work some of his tension off.

Finally, they find some O’driscolls scouting around. Arthur and Charles take them down quick and quiet then drag them into the bushes. They leave their horses further away, sneaking on foot as they reach a worn out cabin with many, many O’driscolls around. Arthur counts thirty, Charles reckons they’re more and so they conclude that Colm is still around.

“We should flank them,” Arthur says as they stay hidden away behind the trees.

“You really think we should be shooting them?” Charles asks as he checks his guns, “They could kill Hosea,”

“We can try sneaking but, I don’t know if it will work much, too many of them around,” Arthur sighs, shifting uncomfortably on his feet. For all they know Hosea could be dead in there, Arthur ignores that thought.

“What if I set up a distraction and draw them away while you get Hosea?” Charles offers and Arthur stretches his neck as he peaks to get another look, that could possibly work, make them look one way then strike from another.

“That could work, what kind of distraction we talking about?” he asks and Charles eyes his satchel.

“You have any dynamite with you?”

 

 

On the signal, which is the explosion a few meters away from where the O’driscolls are, Arthur sneaks around, taking down an O’driscoll who spots him on the way. Most of the men had run to investigate, those who haven’t stay alert as they wait for details.

They mummer and whisper to themselves as Arthur heads towards the cabin, careful not to arouse anyone's attention. There are gunshots and Arthur knows that Charles is the one behind it. He has half a mind to go help him but by the sounds of it, they’re getting shot and unaware from where it’s coming. The rest of the men run towards the sound of bullets and Arthur easily bursts into the cabin, it takes a second for him to spot Hosea, alert and tied to a chair with a gag around his mouth. He doesn’t look too bad considering two days worth of Colm O’driscoll care; he has a bloody nose and a bruise across his cheek but nothing more visible. Arthur doesn’t relax too much as he registers Colm in the flesh stand beside Hosea, gun held firmly against his head.

“I knew you boys would come,” Colm says calmly, voice grating against Arthur’s already raw nerves.

“Put the gun down, Colm,” Arthur replies, hand hovering over his holster, he knows he can play this right or wrong and it all depends on how well he reads Colm.

“Why should I?” Colm sneers, stepping closer to Hosea, outstretched hand pressing the gun harder against Hosea who stares at Arthur worriedly. Arthur knows Hosea knows he can shoot Colm right then and there, but Arthur doesn’t want to risk Hosea’s life.

“Don’t be a fool,”

“A fool?” Colm laughs as he moves to stand behind Hosea, one hand coming down to clutch Hosea’s jaw as the other holds the gun in place, “I’ve got Dutch’s most precious right here, in my camp, where they are outnumbered, I’d be a fool to not do this,” Colm redirects his gun to point at Arthur, “You know, I was thinking about getting you, but you’re a hard man to find, Morgan,”

“Not really,"

“Yeah, well, the degenerates I set to get you couldn’t find you,” Colm snaps, and Arthur’s hand impulsively flinches towards his gun, Colm’s hand darts to the movement then up to Arthur again, “All three of us won’t get out of this alive,” he points out, gun now trained against Hosea’s head again.

“I know,” Arthur says calmly, though his heart beats fast against his chest, he and Colm share eye contact for a moment.

Arthur knows it’s time, his hand clutches his gun quickly as he draws it. Time slows, metaphorically of course, as Arthur aims as quick as he can, Colm now aiming at him. Two shots ring in the air and Arthur finds himself falling against his will, heartbeat getting impossibly faster. He doesn’t understand what went wrong, but his mind catches up quickly and he pushes himself up despite the pain in his side.

“Son of a bitch,” he hisses as he heads over to Hosea, who’s hands fidget against its restraints, eyes wide in worry, “Don’t you worry yourself, old man,” Arthur says as he cuts Hosea’s gag and bonds, “Let’s get you home,”

“Arthur-” Hosea starts as Arthur helps him up, one hand tightly pressing against his side.

“I’ll be fine, come on, it won’t be long before the other O’driscolls come back,” Arthur ushers, checking back on Colm’s body which lay with a neat bullet hole above its face, “Should probably bring this to Dutch,” he thinks out loud, deciding it won’t be too much trouble and heaving the corpse over his shoulder, side searing under the weight.

Hosea grabs his guns and heads out in front of Arthur, whistling for Silver Dollar.

“Thank you,” Hosea says as the horses round up towards them, they mount quickly, Colm bleeding at the back of Arthur’s horse.

“No need, Hosea,” Arthur replies genuinely, “You go, I’ll find Charles,”

“You’re bleeding,” Hosea points out, Arthur shrugs, “I’ll come with you, just in case,”

“Hosea-”

“Come on, Arthur,” Hosea cuts off, petting Silver Dollar as he trots a few paces in front of Arthur, “The sooner we find him the sooner we get home,”

Arthur knows it's futile to try and persuade Hosea now, as cool-headed and wise as he is, he’s as stubborn as a mule. Arthur relents and leads them through the forest, following the trail of fallen men and staying as quiet as they can. Eventually, Arthur spots him and calls for him.

 

Charles and Hosea exchange polite pleasantries as they wait for his horse comes around. “That doesn’t look too good,” Charles notes as they ride out of Big Valley, “I have some bandages, for precaution,”

“I guess, but let's just get far away from that place and I’ll check on it,” Arthur says dismissively, “I never liked this place, too dumb and miserable even for me,”

“Yeah, full of degenerates, seems like between Blackwater and Saint-Denis their world rebuilding project failed,” Hosea agrees.

“Who knows, maybe in a few years Strawberry and Valentine will be the new modern world,”

“Seems highly unlikely,” Charles says as they chuckle between themselves, “you think that’s the end?”

“What d'you mean?” Arthur grunts as he shifts uncomfortably, pain flaring for a moment but he breathes through it.

“The O’driscolls, I mean,” Charles clarifies and Arthur looks down, “I heard Dutch talk about their ongoing feud, seemed serious from both sides,”

“That’s their end,” Arthur answers, “they’re mostly broods who didn’t have nowhere and just wanted someplace to call home, they’ll either go back and work honest or make up their own gangs.”

“That’s good,” Charles nods, “We can rest up here,” he points out as they cross the Dakota river, “you could bleed out,”

“Don’t be dramatic,” Arthur says dismissively but slows Barkley to a stop anyway and dismounts, legs wobbling underneath him for a moment as he clutches Barkley’s saddle for support. Hosea is quick to his side but Arthur waves him off, instead, standing straight and breathing deeply as he overcomes the dizziness that plagues his body.

“Looks like it went in and out,” Hosea notes as Arthur sits beside the river, stripping off his jacket and vest to check on his wound.

“Yeah, pretty lucky it wasn’t higher,” Arthur grits as he peels off his shirt, blood sticking it to the wound and he shudders because of the cold, “You said you had some bandages?”

“Yeah,” Charles affirms, opening his saddle bag and digging out a bottle of whiskey and some bandages, “here, should keep it well till we get back,”

“Thank you,” Arthur mutters, taking the whiskey and instantly gulping some of it down, he looks down at his side and winces at the sight. It’s just under his rips, narrowly missing his stomach, he thanks his lucky stars that it isn’t that serious, he’s been suffocating with his shoulder injury, he doesn’t need another bout of mothering from Hosea and Dutch; though he suspects they’ll keep an eye on him.

He pours a bit of whiskey and stifles a groan as it stings, slowly seeping into the wound, he doesn’t waste time, soaking the wound one more time before wrapping the bandages around it, slow so he doesn’t exert the surrounding muscles.

Hosea and Charles patch themselves up, and they settle around a campfire they set up. Arthur shares a box of crackers and a bottle of brandy as they relax.

“How’d they get you anyway?” Charles asks after they finish their makeshift lunch.

“I was visiting a girl I helped a few days before, Lauren Track, got kidnapped by those Murfree boys, terrible bunch,” Hosea shakes his head, Arthur sharing the sentiment, “She handles the bar in the saloon with her brothers and she invited me, one of the O’driscoll boys were there, stupid enough to try and threaten me to go with them. I didn’t want the poor girl to get involved and as far as she knows, I’m a hunter so I didn’t want to end up shooting people,”

“So you left and tried to shoot them outside?” Arthur asks but Hosea shakes his head.

“I left, the Track brothers held them back while I fled, but there were more and… well I didn’t lose them in the trees as I planned and the rest is what you know,” Hosea explains and Arthur nods, “Glad you found me when you did, glad Colm is as boisterous as he was, bastard spent a day explaining what he was about to do with me,”

“Yeah, sure loved to talk,” Arthur agrees as he rolls his shoulder, the shadow of Colm’s torture at the back of his mind.

“Yeah, well, he’s dead now,” Charles says and they all share a nod, “Dutch will be pleased,”

“or royally pissed,” Arthur says and Charles looks at him in confusion, “that he didn’t kill him himself, as much as he likes to preach about revenge… he seems to fall into it without meaning to,”

“Maybe,” Charles says with a slow nod, “Well, I think we should rest up then continue the journey,”

“I’ll keep watch,” Arthur offers as he stands, dusting off his pants and shrugging his jacket back on, “I’ll wake you around noon,”

Hosea doesn’t argue back, though he looks like he’s about to, but tiredness seems to overcome his worry and he nods, sliding into his bedroll and making himself comfortable, Arthur drinks from the river before settling in with his rifle across his lap, journal now in his palm as he sketches their sleeping figures.


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just wanted Y'all to know that I have exams coming up so updates might not be as frequent. Though I am a bit addicted to writing this story.
> 
> Also, I had a really nice experience while writing this (even though the chapter is semi-dark), I was listening to these two videos while writing, so if you want some background music to play:
> 
> https://youtu.be/erlnW9IeB48 
> 
> or 
> 
> https://youtu.be/XTqk-cQp5Gg (entire soundtrack so be warned)
> 
> and finally
> 
> https://youtu.be/JsLK4_Idk18 (I imagine this playing during Arthur's thought sequence, like how in the movies during pivotal moments music plays) I also find the entire low honor divergent soundtrack to fit most sequences rather than the high honor ones. Maybe because to me the story is about bitterness and trying to right your wrongs and owning up to your own mistakes, some other things that might be spoilers to the endings but idk, just thought I'd share a little something somethings with you.

They reach camp around eventing; they had stopped by Valentine for a second lunch but didn’t stick around, all eager to put the camp at ease. Upon their arrival, Hosea gets swarmed by the camp, Dutch being the first to fret about his bruises and calling for Susan to come and check on him ASAP.

 

Arthur waits till the hype dies, calmly cleaning Barkley’s mane before heaving Colm’s body over his shoulder and going over to Dutch. He has to admit; he is nervous; he knows Dutch had always wished for revenge, one that he is to serve.

 

Arthur motions for Abigail to take Jack away, she nods and takes Jack into the trees to play with Cain. Arthur rolls his shoulder as he stands in front of Dutch’s tent, Hosea had forbidden him from mothering him and demanded he goes away while he gets fixed up. Kinda funny to see Dutch act like an angry teenager about being dismissed but everyone knows that Hosea does not enjoy being watched as much as his personality is attention catching as it is.

 

He can hear Dutch’s pacing from outside and so finally he enters, making sure that the tent is closed as he throws the body at Dutch’s feet. Arthur should probably say something, but as Dutch looks down at Colm’s pale and bloodied face, all coherent thought freezes as he awaits for a reaction.

 

“uh,” Arthur stammers stupidly, “I-I had to… kill him, I mean, he had a gun to Hosea’s head and if I hadn’t then he could have killed him and… I guess… sorry?” Arthur clears his throat as Dutch slowly looks up to him, face neutral which is the complete _opposite_ of reassuring.

 

Dutch stares at Arthur for an agonizing beat before his mouth tugs upwards, eyes softening and with a nod he says, “It’s okay, Arthur, you did what you had to,” Arthur blinks and nods, Dutch continues, “You saved Hosea, that’s all that matters, though I heard you got hurt,”

 

“It’s fine,” Arthur waves a dismissive hand but Dutch raises an eyebrow and Arthur relents, “Just shot me, but it’s not that serious, really,”

 

“I would love to know one day your definition of serious,” Dutch sigh as he turns and starts pacing again, “You keep getting hurt,”

 

“Well, Sorry,”

 

“I didn’t mean it like _that_ ,” Dutch says with an impatient furrow of his brow, “I mean, it seems like you’re putting yourself in danger unnecessarily,”

 

“It’s not like I enjoy getting hurt, Dutch, I’m just trying to keep everyone alive,” Arthur argues back, arms crossing over his chest as he starts to feel a little defensive. He just wants everyone alive, it’s not a sin, and if it comes to him getting hurt, he’d rather die than live knowing he could have saved someone and prioritized himself.

 

“And if it comes to your death?” Dutch asks challengingly, turning to Arthur with a fire burning in his eyes, again Arthur is taken back, he’d seen that fire, anger, and frustration all mixed in with the desperate need for understanding. The thing is, it hasn’t been directed for his sake in a long while, or at least it seems like it had been. Arthur mixes up his timelines, but that doesn’t matter right now.

 

“Then it’s worth it,” Arthur replies truthfully, Dutch’s face falls, then he’s pacing towards Arthur. Some part of him raises a blaring alarm, thinks that Dutch is either going to get up in his face and scream or hit him. Or both. The other stands defiantly against the fear, telling him it’s Dutch, one that is not yet corrupted and seems to still care about him.

 

Still, Arthur flinches as Dutch gets closer, not anticipating the crushing hug that he receives. He stares bewildered for a moment, arms hung in the air before he hugs back. Generally, hugs are rare between the gang, and definitely even rarer to hug so intimately. They’re not an emotional bunch, save for the rare occasion of self-reflection or venting around the campfire. Arthur can count the hugs he’d given and received, so safe to say he’s thrown off by the gesture.

 

It doesn’t last over ten seconds, Dutch stepping back and placing a firm hand on Arthur’s shoulder, one hand coming up with an accusing finger, “Your life, Arthur, it’s...” Dutch looks around, “Valuable, you don’t understand… how much you mean to everyone around. We can’t lose you, you’re my _son,_ this camp’s _safety_.” He says, pressing on each word with conviction heavy in his voice. Arthur remains silent, still taken aback by the sudden affection, “We need you, alive, well and as happy as you can be. You don’t know how many bullets your body can take before it calls quits. You have to understand that we can fight for ourselves, you don’t have to protect each and every one of us, you always take care of everything and every once in a while… you should take care of yourself too,”

 

“Okay, Dutch,” Arthur says softly, debating furthering the conversation or not, “I just… I don’t want to lose anyone for something silly, something that don’t matter,” he raises a shoulder in fake carelessness, Dutch nods though and Arthur clears his throat, uncomfortable with how serious the conversation has gotten, “What should I do… with Colm, I mean,”

 

“Burn him, I guess,” Dutch says, looking back at the body on the floor with distaste, “Thank you, anyway, I guess that’s the end of that,”

 

“Sure hope so,” Arthur agrees, “Sadie should be happy when she comes back,” Arthur says thoughtlessly as he throws the body over his shoulder, “I’ll take Bill and burn his body somewhere quiet,”

 

“Okay, Arthur,” Dutch agrees, following Arthur as he exits the tent, “And when you come back Grimshaw will take a look at that wound, you know,”

 

“Yeah, yeah,” Arthur says with mock annoyance, shouting for Bill to follow him, “Take care of Hosea first,” Arthur yells over his shoulder with a small smile as the man in question frowns.

 

“I’m fine!” Hosea argues and Arthur chuckles, waving a hand to settle him down as he gets closer to Barkley.

 

“Okay, Old man,”

 

 

 

 

Grimshaw gives him an earful and then some as she patches him up, Arthur duly listens silently, letting her push and pull at the new more neatly wrapped the bandage around his torso. He tries to go and continue on with the day, heading to the wood that seems to always be neglected but she stops him with another motherly lecture and pressures him into sleeping. Something about looking like a dead man walking.

 

Arthur tries to argue, but suddenly he realizes that he’s dragging his feet, arms now heavy as the trouble and stress of the last two days wear him out, alongside his aching side. He leaves her to push him towards his tent, she waits until Arthur is completely horizontal before she huffs victoriously and goes away, most likely to berate the girls to go back to work.

 

He desperately yearns for sleep, but something keeps him awake, the shadow of a memory he can’t quite place. And so he’s left staring at the dark sky, breathing slowly as he tries to force himself to relax, to remember what bothers him so much. Eventually, he gives up, mind wondering instead to where he stands now. He wonders if someone had found his body after he died if it had been the Pinkertons perhaps, he scowls at the thought. He hopes he’d been buried at least. The memory of his death stirs something inside him, emotions that he’d long since gotten over, at least he thought he had.

 

Anger sears through his body, an overwhelming urge to punch something runs through him, making him feel tense as he flexes his fist. The anger he hadn’t felt in a while, all directed at Dutch for being so foolish, at Micah for plain existing, at himself for letting it all happen. He sighs as he stirs, another emotion surfacing, this time it pulls him tired, even more, tired than he was. Betrayal, he feels as if life had treated him unfairly. He knows he’s not a good person by any means, but he tried his best, even if it ended with a whole bunch of dead bodies. Dutch had no right to believe he was the traitor, and to this day Arthur does not know what he had done to be thought of so lowly by the one he idolized so much, used to believe in so blindly. He went behind his back, sure, but all it had caused was people having a fighting chance to live, those natives, he would do it again and again. Rains Falls and Eagle Flies and the entirety of the natives, they did not deserve to be treated like animals, killed for their land. Dutch had thought it was betraying of him to go help people, it drives Arthur mad. Dutch, who believed, or at least said he had, in helping those who need helping, killing those who deserve to be killed, had regarded him with distaste over helping people.

 

Arthur thinks that is when he lost his faith in Dutch.

 

Of course, while he was on that ledge, he had so desperately wanted Dutch to help him. Apologize, but no, he left Arthur to die. He can not help but feel like he’d been treated unfairly, he did nothing but save his family, and in the end he was abandoned by the person who saved him. He wonders if Hosea would have been alive, what would he have done. Arthur wonders if he had left with Mary if he could have lived longer. Wonders if it’s an option now.

 

The problem, it seems, that Arthur does not want to leave this family behind. Everyone, from Dutch to Kieran, he wants in his life in some way. As friends, as sisters and brothers or as fathers. The thought of leaving them behind to never see again burns his chest in shame and dislike. He loves them, even Uncle and Bill, though as irritating as they sometimes are.

 

He rubs at his eyes, more tired as he tries to think clearly. Had he saved them in this timeline? Sure Cornwall isn’t on their ass, but the Pinkertons still chase them, could they live peacefully? If they had the chance, can they leave this life behind? Arthur thinks it may be hard, he’s hard wired to fight, doesn’t even like the thought of being a city boy. He loves the rugged lifestyle he leads, could do with less killing but still. But the world is changing, and they can not stay the same for they will perish. Ultimately, they will die, they can’t escape death, but he wants them to live as long as possible. He realizes offhandedly that he wants to live to see himself gray, just the chance to live and become old, as troubling as the years in between may be, he wants to live through the hardships.

 

He can’t help the bitterness as he realizes that he had died early. He realizes that the situation he’s in, as weird as it is, is somewhat of a blessing. Being able to correct your mistakes, having the knowledge of what will happen. He doesn’t depend on his knowledge past the basics, which are to somehow either kill Micah with a good reason other can see, or get rid of him before it’s too late. He had always disliked Micah, ever since he got introduced to the gang, he had brought nothing but madness and unnecessary gunfights along with him. The fight in Strawberry being a great example, Arthur had felt so guilty, killing all those poor folks. He’s hadn’t even tried to justify it to himself, he killed against his code. The town had lost so many that those who survived didn’t know who to be wary of, Arthur had always felt like a fraud while he did business around town, somehow underneath, Arthur knows he’ll always live with the guilt.

 

Arthur sits up, mood now foul as he grunts and stands heading over to the stew Pearson had made. Grimshaw looks disappointed but does not comment as he takes a seat and eats glumly.

 

 

 

 

Arthur sits in a small canoe, he had taken a day to himself much to Dutch’s satisfaction and decided that he wants to be away from all possible human interaction, to be at peace alone somewhere he can relax. He had taken the trip down to Rhodes, now rocking in his canoe in the middle of Flat Iron lake while he sketches idly. It reminds him of when Hosea would take him fishing after a bad job, or a particularly heated argument with either Marston or Dutch.

 

His side doesn’t bother him much, mostly just an inconvenient pain that he can ignore within a limit, shooting at least is not a problem but a safe bet would be he cannot go fist to fist with anyone for a while. The sound of the water soothes him enough that he finally breathes freely, worries temporarily forgotten, he stares for a moment at the drawing between his hands, the horizon in front of him, before he snaps his journal closed and tucks it safely into his satchel, sliding back and pulling his hat on his face as he closes his eyes. He doesn’t think, breathes uniformly as he hums a tune and generally acts carefree for a few moments.

 

Despite his best efforts, he dozes off.

 

_He stands in the middle of a town, one which he recognizes but can not put his finger on exactly. It’s ghostly as mist blows over, a storm up ahead roars its arrival. It’s raining and Arthur prickles as he sees a pair of eyes, glowing in the darkness ahead through the mist._

 

_A wolf, maybe a large coyote he can’t distinguish from such a long distance, steps out from the mist. It regards Arthur carelessly as if it’s used to his presence. Arthur doesn’t feel threatened, the atmosphere should make him antsy and the fact that no one seems to be around, but he can not bring himself to care. It passes as an observation._

 

_The wolf steps closer, circling around Arthur before scowling at him, letting out a growl before it runs off, leaving the scenery to fade into darkness._

 


	21. Chapter 21

–I don’t have a clue what’s going on, Sadie isn’t back yet and the whole kidnapping business has everyone spooked. Morale-wise– we’re doing bad, I can’t even help it. I don’t want this to turn into a mess–

Arthur sighs as he closes his journal, he’s in his usual spot, out beside the camp, far enough to be alone but not that far that he can hear the bustling. It’s been eight days since Sadie had gone out to Blackwater, two since Hosea got kidnapped. Everyone shifts around the topic of money as Dutch gets more and more impatient and Arthur gets more and more worried. It’s clear as day, Dutch and Arthur are often talking in angry hushed tones as they go back and forth on the money. 

Just to make amends, Arthur had headed into Saint-Denis and met that fellow-Kevin, was it?- and had some of his work evaluated and sold. Dutch had been satisfied enough with the money Arthur had come around with, a little over a thousand for five sketches, he had a newfound confidence in his work. They still talk about Blackwater, Arthur expressing his concerns for Sadie and Kieran (Trelawney too, of course), Dutch worries over them escaping with it. Arthur, again, has to assure Dutch that he knows Sadie would not back stab them, for how little she had been with the gang, he knows she sees them a little like family. 

After a tiring afternoon full of convincing, Bill comes around with a possible job. A bank stagecoach, loaded for Saint-Denis, Dutch gives his blessing as Bill drags Lenny and Arthur aside to come with him. Arthur agrees, happy he’ll have something other than arguing and worrying to do. They ride together towards Valentine, apparently; the stagecoach is getting sent from Blackwater and suddenly Arthur wants to get as far away from the job as possible. 

Still, he’s glad he took it, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself if he had to wait for their arrival. He can keep them in check, keep them alive, this way. They set up camp beside Valentine, plan together what they’ll do, according to the source, the station clerk from Saint-Denis, it’ll be heavily guarded and they might need to blow the safe open. Arthur tsks at the thought of an explosion, that’ll draw people towards them, so they’ll need to move quickly. 

The estimate for the guards are five, Arthur bids on that there will be more, they prepare their guns as they ride to their final destination. Arthur leaves Barkley a few feet away from where the action will happen, taking cover crouched behind a tree as Bill and Lenny stay in their horses, standing in the middle of the road to force the stagecoach to stop. 

He has his rifle in hand, hair tied back so it wouldn’t distract him with the blowing wind, he takes a few calming breaths as he puts up his bandana. He can hear the creaking of the stagecoach and he peaks, Bill and Lenny have their pistols out along with their bandana’s up. 

There are no words shared, as soon as the guards see Bill and Lenny, they start shooting. Bill swears as his horse rears, Lenny running a few feet back as he dismounts and lets his horse flee, Arthur leaves cover, shooting to distract the guards from Bill as his horse rears again and he’s forced off, falling on his back. “Get behind something, damnit!” Arthur shouts, Lenny reacting quickly and running to where Arthur was. Bill collects himself, Arthur helping him up and throws him is fallen gun. 

The guards ride towards them and Arthur stands in front of Bill, who’s reloading hastily, “Just get behind something!” Arthur hisses, bullets whizzing past as Bill nods quickly and heads behind a tree. Arthur shoots again, another guard falling and then another. He tries to calm himself, taking in big breaths and holding them in before exhaling then shooting.   
Lenny cries out suddenly and Arthur turns sharply, the guards had managed to shoot the gun out of his hand and blood now seeps quickly from his palm. Arthur swears as he runs to him, he tries to shrug Arthur off but Arthur takes a hold of his wrist firmly and rips off his own bandana, wrapping it tightly around Lenny’s hand. “Hide, till we tell you it’s clear, alright?” Arthur orders gently, not leaving enough time for Lenny to argue before he picks his rifle up again and leaves cover, drawing the bullets towards him.

He shoots, blind blanking as he lets his survival sense take over. He does not think beyond counting the men and directing his rifle towards them, Lenny is to his left, nursing his hand as he tries to get a look at how the situation is proceeding. He shouts out that a few more guards are coming up and Arthur internally groans, he shoulders his rifle and takes out his pistols, shooting the men as they come into view. The last three men round back, heading to where they came from as Arthur checks if there are more. 

Bill steps out from behind the tree, guns still raised in alertness, “That the last of them?” he asks and Arthur nods as he holsters his pistols.

“You go get the money, better be damn worth it,” he mutters as he heads to Lenny, who leans against the tree, “let me get a look,” Arthur says gently, urging Lenny to extend his hand. Slowly, Lenny does and Arthur unwraps his bloodied bandana. The bullet had left a small clean hole in his palm and Arthur winces at the sight, it’ll take a few weeks for him to be able to pick something up again, even more before he shoots a gun. 

“Nasty, huh?” Lenny says grimly and Arthur nods, “Good thing it ain’t my dominant hand,”

“Sure,” Artur agrees, “I think you need a doctor, though,” 

“No, it ain’t that serious,” Lenny shakes his head quickly and Arthur purses his lip, “Arthur, come on,” he whines childishly and Arthur shakes his head.

“Boy, you’ve got a hole in your hand,”

“And you in your side, and your shoulder,” Lenny argues back and Arthur squints, it does sound hypocritical but he doesn’t budge.

“Well, I’m a fool, you don’t lead by my example,” He emphasizes as Lenny opens his mouth to respond, “Come on, boy, we ain’t got no time for that. You’re going to a doctor, end of discussion,”

“But, Arthur!” Lenny protests further before they get cut off by an explosion, Bill whoops as he collects the money and strides to where Lenny and Arthur are. 

“Got it, boys, come on!” Bill cheers as he juggles stacks of money on one hand and whistle for his horse. 

“You head back to camp, I’ll take Lenny up to Valentine to check his hand then head back,” Arthur says, waving a hand to cut Lenny off as he stares seriously at him while he whistles for Barkley. Lenny sighs defeated and whistles for his horse with an eye roll. Arthur smiles triumphantly as Barkley runs through the tree towards them.

 

 

“Doc,” Arthur greets as the doctor enters through the door, Arthur had been told to wait outside while Lenny gets his hand checked and though he wanted to know the specifications of Lenny’s injury he agreed and waited in the chair outside. 

The doctor, Riley, tips his head in greeting as Arthur stands. Lenny slinks behind the doctor, hand bandaged thick, with an expression of pure disappointment. “Your friend here should be fine, Mister Callahan,” Riley says with a vague gesture towards Lenny, “I would suggest changing the bandages twice a day for three weeks and then you can bring him back and see how well it’s healing,” he adds and then turns to Lenny, “And no exerting the hand, got it? No shooting, writing, eating, nothing,” 

“Sure thing,” Lenny replies with a distasteful frown, he looks at Arthur with a blaming expression and Arthur shrugs a shoulder with a smile, “While we’re here, Mister Callahan had gotten shot a few days back, we’re not in town often, Doc, mind if you check on it?” Lenny asks with an innocent gaze and Arthur’s smile drops instantly as he looks at the doctor quickly.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Arthur grits out hurriedly as Riley turns to him with a shocked impression, “Swear on it,”

“How did you treat it, Mister Callahan?” Riley challenges and Arthur quickly forms a lie, but it doesn’t get spoken as the Doctor is quick to cut him off with a knowing expression, “Forget about that question, how about you let me check on the dressing? It is dressed, right?”

“Of course!” Arthur answers, louder than he intended and he winced at his own tone, “It’s really not important, Doc, I ain’t even got money to pay for another check-up, so,” he quickly bounces around Riley and grips Lenny’s arm firmly, “if you don’t mind, we’ve had quite the eventful day and have a home to return to,” Arthur musters up his fakest smile as he drags Lenny out the office, “Thanks for the help!” he shouts over his shoulder as he pushes Lenny out, who’s snickering to himself, “Think you’re so goddamn smart, huh?” Arthur grunts, playfully pushing Lenny’s head as he passes.

“Call it payback for making me endure all that business,” Lenny calls as they mount their horses, Arthur shakes his head but smiles. Through all the worries he’s balancing, Arthur can find it in himself to be happy for a moment. 

“You’re a good kid,” Arthur blurts, surprising himself as well as Lenny, who raises his eyebrows.

“Thank you, Arthur,” Lenny says after a moment, gripping his horse’s reigns and spinning to face him, “You’re a good man,” he adds, “Even if you don’t think so,”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all ready for some heartbreak? Prepare yourself :)


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said heartbreak, but I wanted the gang to be happy for a second before everything goes down. Also, this story is nearing its end! So I just wanted to thank you all for the support, comments and Kudos Y'all left! You made this an amazing experience.

Arthur is on guard duty for the first time in an exceptionally long time. He doesn’t count Shady Belle since it was more anxiousness than duty. He has a sick urge to smoke, but he stands resilient, the shadow of a cough in his throat. He whistles and hums to himself as entertainment, strolling around the camp with his rifle over his shoulder. He picks up some snails, watches one blankly as it slowly slimes its way up a tree. He shoos rats, deer, and a single pighorn. He’s bored out of his mind, but the dull practice of going around the perimeter and looking out allows him to relax, he enjoys the silence, soaks it in.

 

It’s around three am when Arthur begins to feel itchy, like someone is watching him. He checks over his shoulder, heads closer to camp to see if anyone is awake, there isn’t, and so he heads back, guard now up.

 

He carefully makes his way around camp again, then a second time before he spots it. Just around the side of the camp, a paw print. Arthur kneels beside it, squinting, before hoisting himself again. The print leads around camp, close to where Arthur’s own footprints lay a few feet away. He shudders as he follows the print, and after one complete circle, he concludes that something is hunting him.

 

The thought, as disturbing as it is, makes Arthur annoyed instead of scared. He turns on his heel sharply, going backward. A few paces, one half a circle, then he turns sharply again and walks back.

 

He does this randomly, not counting his steps, going off of intuition. After the sixth turn, Arthur stops, luckily, his trick worked and he hears the bush to his left ruffle. Whatever is hunting has been confused, patter now broken as he goes back and forth, ever so slightly redirecting his path away from camp. Once he’s sure that he’s got whatever animal is tracking him’s attention, he books it, running quickly and hearing echoing footsteps behind him. He takes sharp turns, left, right, left and then left again. He breathes quick and shallow as his rifle swings beside him. He’s not a fast runner, but the turns make the animal pause as they redirect. Eventually, the footsteps stop, and Arthur turns sharply, smiling satisfyingly to himself as a cougar stands angrily a few feet away. He’s quick to grab his rifle but is caught off guard when a howl breaks through the silence only filled by his quick breaths.

 

Three white wolves stand hidden between the trees, Arthur swears as he quickly holds eye contact with the cougar. He shoots it when it begins to prance towards him, successfully killing it before the tree wolves jump on him. He swears as he ditches his rifle, trying to get his pistol out as the wolf swipes at his face. Arthur turns his head, groaning loudly when the paw catches at his neck behind his ears. The wolf above him snaps its teeth at him before going down to bite his neck, he pushes its face away before it has the chance, forcing it to remove its paw, dragging against his neck down to his collar.

 

His heart beats in his ears as his adrenaline pushes him to his feet, he stumbles back, pistol out and shoots haphazardly, landing a lucky shot as the wolf whimpers. He doesn’t get to aim properly before another wolf is on top of him, angrily huffing as Arthur wrestles it, leg bent underneath him as he tries to shrug off its strong hold on his arm. He swears, anger and fear mixing together but in the middle of it, he can feel himself grateful he wore his jacket.

 

After a moment of wrestling, he comes up with the genius idea to use his free hand to take out his other pistol rather than try and push the insistent wolf off. He does just that, shooting the wolf straight through the side of its skull and heaving a breath as he turns quickly, shooting the last remaining wolf as it readies to pounce.

 

After checking behind him and to his sides many times, Arthur lets himself sigh and drop to the ground. He’s drained, pain now settling in as the adrenaline washes off. He chuckles to himself, conversation with Dutch on his mind. It seems that nature itself is out to get him, he wonders if the cougar had been the one he let flee, wonders if that’s the case, should he see meaning in that? Humorously, he thinks about how it came and bit him in the ass, literally.

 

He groans as the pain in his neck flares for a moment, and Arthur becomes all too aware of the blood gushing down the side of his neck, soaking through his collar and onto his shirt. He pushes himself to sit, stands unevenly before he grabs his rifle and makes his way back to camp. The gunshots must’ve woken them up, naturally, and he’s greeted by a half-asleep, crazed Javier, who points a gun to his chest before realizing who it is and dropping it.

 

“Gunshots,” Javier says simply and Arthur nods despite the growing ache in his neck.

 

“Mine,” Arthur answers curtly, “Wolves and a Cougar,” he adds as they make their way deeper into camp. Sean and John stand with shotguns in their hands in front of the woman’s tent, Charles, Bill, Micah, and Lenny scattered around, all protecting a section as Dutch and Hosea stand in front of Dutch’s tent, both also ready for a fight.

 

“False alarm!” Javier calls loudly, “You okay, hermano?” Javier asks, motioning to his neck, “looks bad,”

 

“Feels bad,” Arthur says with a chuckle, the camp slowly let their guard down, Hosea and Dutch b-lining towards Arthur and Javier. Javier leaves, clapping Arthur’s shoulder and heading towards his tent.

 

“Arthur, what the hell happened?” Dutch asks the flare in his eyes flicks off as he takes in Arthur’s appearance. Arthur smiles woozily, reaching a hand to lay it on Dutch’s shoulder. At the contact, tiredness breaks into Arthur and he gets dragged into darkness, the last thing he can remember is Dutch looking severely worried.

 

 

 

 

He wakes up in a daze, bright light seeping into his eyes beckoning him to start his day. He groans despite himself, pain restringing as the events roll back into his memory. He sits up, fighting against a cough, knowing that’ll hurt more than do good. By how high the sun it, Arthur would say it's noon, a day already half wasted. He pushes himself, prodding at the gauze around his neck but doesn’t fiddle with it too much. Hosea and Dutch are counting money in the middle of camp as Charles and John place the finished stacks in a familiar battered chest. Arthur recognizes it immediately, head turning to the horses impulsively to check for Kieran before he realizes that he’d probably be resting not working. Instead, he seeks out Sadie, notices her sitting with Javier as she slurps back Pearson’s stew.

 

He grins, pain forgotten instead feeling heavy relief as he makes his way to Sadie.

 

“Looking sharp, Arthur,” She chuckles but roams over Arthur’s neck with concern in her eyes, “Heard about you being second to Marston,” Sadie teases and Arthur smiles as he takes a seat.

 

“Now don’t say that,” Arthur teases back, “I still got my looks,”

 

“What looks?” Sadie asks with a fake confused frown before breaking into a smile, “It’s gonna leave a nasty scar,” she points out, scooping another spoonful of stew into her mouth.

 

“Figured as much,” Arthur says dismissively, “Adds to the collection,”

 

“mhhm,” she agrees with a nod, “so you’ll keep sporting the murderer look?”

 

“whatchu mean?” Arthur asks, before realizing he probably is still in his bloodied clothes, “oh,” he says as she smirks and he pushes himself up again, “be right back, I guess,” he excuses himself as he heads to change.

 

 

 

 

They celebrate loudly, Arthur and John singing out of tune as Bill, Charles, Lenny and Javier play poker. Dutch and Molly dance excitedly while Sadie and Kieran get serenaded in compliments as backhanded as some of them are. The girls laugh and chatter together as everyone generally has a good time, John eventually starts to dance with Abigail as Arthur sits with Jack.

 

“How you feeling?” Arthur asks as Jack looks around excited. He looks at Arthur and smiles, digging into his pocket and taking out a small wooden toy, “what’s that?”

 

“A toy! I lost my other one back at the old camp, Pa got me this when he took me to Saint-Denis,” Jack replies as he fiddles with the toy, upon closer inspection, it looks like a horse, “the man at the store said it’s an Arabian, like Uncle Dutch’s,”

 

“That’s nice,” Arthur nods thoughtlessly, “So you like this new camp?”

 

“Yeah,” Jack smiles, “I saw a doe with Aunt Tilly, she said that maybe one day I can learn to hunt it,”

 

“You want that?” Arthur asks and Jack shrugs, a new gesture he seems to have picked up.

 

“I want to know how to ride a horse, Pa said he can teach me when I’m a little bit older,”

 

“That’s good, right?” Arthur smiles down as Jack nods quickly, “You and your Pa are spending time together, makes you happy?”

 

“Yeah!” Jack says loudly, grinning, “We always go on new adventures, last night, Pa took me to see the horses down in Emerald Ranch, he said that they’re mostly Morgans, but there was one Fox Rotter there,”

 

“Trotter,” Arthur corrects and Jack nods.

 

“Trotter, it was running around, being trained, Pa said,” Jack puts the toy back in his pocket as he stands, “I’ll go dance with Aunt Tilly now, Uncle Arthur,”

 

“Sure thing, kid,” Arthur nods his farewell as Jack skips to where Tilly and Karen dance recklessly. Arthur sigh, content with sitting around the campfire and watching the gang be completely happy. He realizes idly that this could be it. He might have actually saved them, all of them. He grins to himself, shouting a teasing remark at Pearson as he tries to dance with Susan. At the corner of the camp, Arthur accidentally makes eye contact with Micah, who sits silently with a grim expression. Arthur stops smiling as he and Micah stare at each other, silent tension rising between them. Arthur smirks, tearing his gaze away from Micah as he smiles again, this time because he knows he is victorious.


	23. Chapter 23

Arthur gets his neck stitched by Swanson, he doesn’t complain much, just hisses here and there whenever Reverend pulls too hard. Hosea doesn’t comment, but he doesn’t look too pleased with Arthur’s new scar, Bill had joked that now both Dutch’s sons carry a scar from a wolf and John slaps him up the head but smiles. Arthur stares at the stitches in his small mirror, wondering if he’ll ever get used to having a scar so apparent. 

He finds that he doesn’t mind it much, his hair hides it mostly, and he’s never really taken care of his looks. No need for such grooming, he thinks. 

Arthur is tinkering around camp, hands empty and not feeling a ride out. He chops the wood and plays with Cain for a few moments along with Jack who has seemingly fallen in love with their pet. 

Most of Camp is here, for the exception of John and Abigail who're in Saint-Denis, putting their newly retrieved money to work and buying some things for themselves and the camp. Micah isn't around too, but Arthur had gotten used to his absence, no longer does it send warnings. 

Dutch sits reading in front of his tent as music plays, Mary-Beth is writing again, Arthur had been told she had decided to continue her story and sell under a fake name. 

He sits beside Charles as he sharpens an arrow; they talk a bit about their plans, Arthur's plan to be exact. 

He had already put the second step into work, tent now having drying paintings set up. Dutch had suggested he do some portraits and so the entirety of last night he had sat with Tilly and Mary-beth and tried to paint them. The end product was recognizable as human beings, but not as Tilly and Mary-beth, and in a sense, Arthur likes that since he doesn't want them recognized somewhere because of him. 

"You really think we can pull this off?" Charles asks and Arthur nods, he had tried as much as he can to make the plan foul proof, finally about to use his greatest con. Arthur Callahan, his father, Gavin Callahan and his sister, Antoinette Callahan (Karen) will be traveling along with Tucson Halligan and his own family (Grimshaw as Lillith Halligan, Mary-Beth as July Halligan and Bill as Lucas Halligan) Javier, Charles, Tilly as a third Family (Jacksons) and Pearson, Molly, Sean, Swanson as a fourth, John, Abigail, Jack as a fifth and so on. They'll buy their tickets separately, each after thirty minutes, and then board ten minutes apart. On the ship itself they'll continue the act, but after that, they'll return to normal. Maybe under different surnames, but they'll live together. Mango farms as Dutch once said. 

"I believe so," Arthur answers confidently, "I've thought it over time and time again, the only thing I'm counting on is you lot getting on the boat on time," 

"That's not what I meant, I mean, you think we can stop being Outlaws?" 

"I-" Arthur pauses, thinking again, "I think most can, most of us already want out, Tilly, Mary-Beth, Javier...Abigail...so many of us," Arthur shakes his head, "We have to, it's not like we changed, hell, I haven't had anything change in me in the last fifteen years. Dutch's been the same as he always had been, though, I think he's getting a little wiser," Arthur muses, head dropping.

"You want out?" Charles asks and Arthur's mouth hangs open for a moment. Eyes are on him now, drawn in by the question and he glances over at Dutch, who stares blankly while he waits for Arthur to answer.

"I-" he clears his throat, eyes falling on the ground, "I guess...I guess I just know we'll all die if we don't change, I-I'll always be an Outlaw, it's been a part of me for so long... I ain't even remember how it was not to be. This is survival more than me wanting to change," he answers truthfully.

"I understand," Charles says, "It makes sense," 

"Yeah," Arthur agrees quietly, "And if that doesn't work," Arthur adds, straightening, "I have back up plans,"

"You sound a lot like Dutch," Charles notes with a smile, Arthur furrows his brows. Sure he'd been taking the reigns a bit, but he's not like Dutch, he can't be a leader like him, doesn't have a way with words or a tint of the charm. 

"Nah," he denies, "I'll never be like Dutch, ain't got the talent," 

"You've got the brain," Charles shoots back and Arthur huffs a laugh. 

"Maybe, can't help but be like him a bit, all with Twenty years living down each other's throats," 

"I can't imagine, twenty years," Charles huffs with a smile, "Six months and I already call you family, I can't even begin to understand how you feel,"

"Why you think I'm doing this?" Arthur says, leaning back, "I was here, when John came around, when Pearson, the girls, Swanson. Everyone. I...I watched this family grow, more and more, from just the-the strange couple and their unruly son to one of the most well-known gangs." 

"Must feel like a lifetime," 

"It is a lifetime," Arthur chuckles, "I've been here since before Lenny was born," Arthur laughs at the realization, "A good run we've had, but... For us to survive, we need to adapt. Stopping the world from it's so-called civilization project, it ain't a wrong we can right. As much as I don't like it, it's necessary."

"Yeah," Charles agrees, conversation dying as they sit in silence, Charles picks up a new arrow and starts to sharpen it. 

 

Arthur is asleep when it happens, he shoots up at the first sound of the bullet, hand flying to his pistols. It's dark, pitch black as the fires are out. He pushes himself off the bed, another bullet coming through as the camp wakes up. Everyone is panicked, girls forming a circle with Pearson, Sean, and Kieran guarding them. Dutch stumbles out, pistols in hand with Molly behind him, hiding as the third bullet comes through.

"Who's on guard?" Arthur asks Javier stands a few paces in front of them, John beside him as Abigail holds Jack close.

"Bill," Charles answers, "What's happening out there?" He asks and Arthur grunts, looking around as the silence stretches before a fourth bullet fires.

"I'll go see, Javier?" Arthur tilts his head for him to follow and Javier nods, following Arthur as they step out of camp. A fifth bullet fires, shouting now echoing as they get closer. Javier and Arthur walk slow, following the swears.

"They're here!" Someone shouts, Arthur turns quickly on his heel, in time to see a few Pinkertons turning towards them, "Fire!" 

Arthur pushes Javier behind a tree as they try and dodge the bullets. "How the hell did they find us!" Javier asks as they run between the trees back to camp. They need to regroup so they can fight, from the glimpse Arthur had gotten, he can confidently say that they're twice what they had fought back in Blackwater. 

The bullets whiz fast around them, Javier yelps as he falls and Arthur stops with a slide as Javier holds his thigh "Just go!" Javier urges with a wince, "We'll both die,"

"No, no we won't," Arthur says fiercely, grabbing Javier by the lapels of his shirt and hoisting him up, slinging an arm under his knees and lifting him up with a groan. He continues running, taking sharp turns to escape the bullets. 

"Help!" Arthur shouts as he gets closer, "Javier's hit, everyone, fucking shoot something!" Arthur swears to himself as he slows down and drops Javier besides the girls. The Pinkertons have swarmed them know, Bill still nowhere in sight as Arthur stands again, running out to help the fight. 

"They're behind us!" Lenny shouts, shooting with his good hand as he hides behind Pearson's wagon. Arthur and Kieran run, shooting the men exiting the forest as they do. Dutch and Hosea shout for the men to cover those who aren't fighting. 

John guides Abigail and Jack to the girls' tent and joins the guard. Arthur shouts for Kieran to take cover as he shoots, reloading quickly and shooting blindly. Kieran nods hastily, looking bewildered as he hides beside Arthur.

"Calm down," Arthur soothes, "We got this alright?" He assures. 

"I-I never fought like this before," Kieran stutters out and Arthur nods, ducking instinctively as a bullet breaks the wood above him.

"Just follow me alright, I'll clear the way?" Arthur waits till Kieran nods before standing himself and shooting as accurately as he can. "Come on, behind me!" Arthur orders and Kieran is quick to obey, running and walking behind Arthur as the move around the camp. 

"They're all around us," Dutch informs, "this ain't working," He adds and Arthur growls, wishing he had his rifle. 

"Help!" Pearson shouts, shooting as he glances behind him, "Swanson's shot!"

"We're going down like flies, Dutch!" Hosea shouts, and Dutch shakes his head as he shoots, "Arthur-" Hosea gets cut off as the box above him gets blown by a bullet. He moves quickly to another cover and Arthur looks around, surveying what he can do. They're trapped in a circle, cover slowly getting torn down and leaving them out in the open. 

Kieran leaves his back as he scurries off to help Swanson. "Sadie!" Arthur calls, turning to see where she is.

"Here!" She shouts from his right, "Arthur, what will we do?" 

"Just get us in a circle," Arthur orders, "John, Charles, take the left, Sadie and Lenny, right. Dutch, you and Hosea take up front, I'll take the back." 

"Got it!" Lenny shouts as he joins Sadie, sliding behind a barrel peaking to shoot. 

"Look out!" John calls, Arthur turns only to watch a bottle fall in the middle of camp, a fire starting. 

There's an uproar between the gang as they reposition themselves. "Help!" Someone shouts and Arthur struggles to see over the fire. Everything blurs together as the fire spreads and Arthur finds himself stranded from the camp. He can't pass the fire, too high for him to jump through. His name gets shouted a few times as he shoots wildly. 

"Arthur! We need help!" Dutch shouts, voice rising and Arthur bites down his fear as he turns and jumps through the fire, worries overtaking his own sense of survival. 

"Kieran!" Mary-Beth cries out as Arthur watches Kieran duck low beside her. 

"Everyone, back in position!" Arthur barks, "Kieran, shoot!" He urges and Kieran nods, reloading his revolver quickly.

"Arthur, over here!" Hosea calls and Arthur runs towards him, crouching as he takes cover.

"Bill isn't back?"

"No," Hosea says, flinching at every bullet that catches on their cover, "They're overwhelming us, people are getting hurt, fast."

"I know," Arthur answers angrily, "I don't know if we can fight them bullet to bullet,"

"Fire bottles?"

"I don't know," Arthur sighs, "I've got a couple sticks of dynamite, could make them back off a bit,"

"Anything," Hosea says desperately "Do anything you can, dynamite or fire,"

"Alright, back off so you don't get hurt," Arthur waves towards where Dutch shoots from behind where the donation box is.

"Be careful,"

"Ain't got a choice," Arthur says as he pushes himself to his feet, "Everyone back!" Arthur shouts as he lights the dynamite, "Fire in the hole!" 

The explosion deters them for a moment, Arthur grabs the second stick and lights it quickly, throwing it and grabbing his pistol again as the second explosion sounds. 

"Bill!" Javier shouts, tourniquet now tied tightly around his thigh, "They've got Bill!"

"Cease Fire!" Someone shouts from outside camp and slowly the bullets stop, " Arthur Morgan, Dutch Van Der Linde!" 

"That's Milton," Arthur says as he walks slowly towards where Milton hold Bill hostage. He shares a glance with Dutch as they move out. The camp group to where the Pinkertons flock together, both holding their guns tightly, ready for another attack.

"Mister Milton," Arthur shouts, hands held high. They'd been through this before, he doesn't want to lose anyone this time. Won’t lose anyone. 

"Mister Morgan," Milton drawls "I have given you a chance,"

"A chance for what? For us to die?"

"For you to live you fool!"

"And for what exactly? For me to become a coward and sell out those who care about me? Huh?" Arthur barks, anger bubbling inside him.

"Not all share the sentiment, Morgan," Milton shakes Bill, "You all are fighting for the wrong cause! All you're doing is killing yourselves!" Milton shouts, Arthur takes another step towards him.

"What do you mean, Agent?" Arthur asks lowly, despite him knowing exactly what it means. It's his chance, finally to prove something.

"I mean, Morgan," Milton says with a smirk, "Not all of you are as faithful as you’d like to imagine,”

Arthur grins despite himself and the situation, “we ain’t got no rats,”

“Are you sure of that?” Milton asks, not realizing that Arthur's grin is not in denial, “What about Micah Bell?”

“What about him?” Arthur asks, grin falling a bit as excitement bubbles up inside him, he’s about to get what he had wished for, finally, for everyone to understand, to see how foolish they had been to trust Micah, and by everyone, Arthur means Dutch. 

“He’s been feeding us well,” Milton snickers behind Bill who stands furiously staring at Arthur, “Ever since that fateful day in Strawberry, talked faster than an angry bull, told me everything, who you are, where you are, what you’re doing,” Milton continues as Arthur looks at Dutch who stares ahead blankly. Arthur suppresses a smirk.

“Really now?” Arthur says, “And what’s your plan now, Agent Milton?”

“We’ve got you surrounded,” Milton drones, “If you and Dutch hand yourselves in, the rest can go,” Milton offers, “You’ve got wounded men, Mister Morgan,” he says and Arthur glances behind him, “Two lives for almost twenty others,”

“Don’t do nothing, Arthur,” John shouts, “We’ll be alright!”

“Yeah, Arthur!” Lenny shouts, “We’ve got your back,”

“Fools!” Milton shrieks angrily, “All of you! You’d throw your life away for a Silver tongued snake and a no good murderer?”

“Agent,” Arthur says sharply, and Milton catches his gaze with equal fierceness, “With all due respect, which frankly is none, but we’ve… we’ve got something here, that you’ll never get the chance to experience,” he moves to look behind him to where the gang stands readily, guns aiming at Pinkertons, even Javier is leaning heavily against the food wagon, pistol in hand.

It warms Arthur's heart as he looks back at Milton, “Now, you might call us Savages, killers even. But what difference is between us? You hunt down men, same as we do, kill men same as we do, if not worse. You torture people, hurt people, all under your scam that you call the law. We...well we choose to kill those who deserve to die, truly deserve to die. We rob those who take from the poor, we hunt down those who hurt others. And we get called names for it,” Arthur rants, “You’ve killed a lot of innocent men, by pursuing us, Agent, we-we ain’t done nothing wrong.”

“You’re blind, Mister Morgan,”

“And you’re a soulless bastard, Agent” Arthur snaps back, “We ain’t backing down,”

“Then you’ll die,” Milton barks.

Arthur moves his eyes to Bill, who stands confused for a moment before he subtly shifts. Arthur smirks to himself as Milton continues to monologue about their blindness. Arthur closes his fist for a moment, making sure he holds it for a few seconds before he puts up four fingers and starts a countdown. He makes eye contact with Dutch, who nods slowly as they step back, towards camp slowly. 

The Pinkertons who are still standing aren’t a small amount, Arthur can see at least twenty and he knows some are still in between the trees. But they can fight, they can take them down, but at what cost? Last time they had a cover, an entire house of it, but now they’re stranded in the middle of a forest; surrounded from all side. 

He thinks about getting Bill first, then they can fight. He pauses and motions for Dutch to continue going back, Milton had stopped talking and Arthur shares a glare with him. He glances around for a moment before nodding to himself and kicking the dirt.

“Agent Milton,” Arthur says as he looks at the ground before looking up sharply, he lowers his hand completely and Milton stares at him with anticipation, “I’ll… I’ll see you in hell,” he smiles before he draws his gun as fast as he can. Bill ducks out the way as Arthur pulls the trigger, Milton falls to the ground but Arthur can’t savor the moment as the bullets start to rain. He runs after Bill as they hide behind the nearest object, fire now having eaten half of camp, embers beginning to fade, “You haven’t got any dynamite by any chance?” Arthur asks jokingly as he peaks to see where the Pinkertons are.

“No, but there’s some in the weapons wagon,” Bill replies, “Shit, can’t believe it,” he says angrily as he reloads his pistol.

“What?” Arthur asks, flinching as a bullet flies between them, a clean hole now through the box. 

“Goddamn rat,” Bill huffs, turning on his knee to shoot Pinkertons on their right. Arthur smiles as he shoots, finally, he thinks. He’s been wishing for this ever since before he died, finally, everyone sees Micah for what he truly is, and the guns trained on him aren’t his own gang. 

“We’ll deal with it later,” Arthur says, reaching a hand to clap Bill’s shoulder, “Javier is shot, I need you to go and help him, fool’s going to get himself killed,”

“Okay,” Bill nods as he shoots one final time before he’s on his feet, running to where Javier is now on one knee, shooting desperately.

Arthur calls for Lenny to come take his side, leaving Sadie the right since it’s only a few men remaining. She can handle it if she doesn’t get shot in the back, he runs as soon as Lenny takes his place, ducking beside the wagon as he quickly searches it for the sticks. His eyes roam rapidly, circling the wagon before he spots the crate with the promised dynamite. He grabs three and a fire bottle, running towards the middle of camp, as he sets them down. “Everyone!” he yells as he lights the first stick of dynamite, “clear left!” he orders, shooing Hosea away as he throws the lighted explosive, not wasting time as it explodes he grabs a second one.

“Get Javier and the rest back, clear front!” he shouts, “Sean, Bill, Pearson, get on with it!” They nod as Arthur crouches to one knee, ears ringing as several bullets head towards him. He feels particularly lucky that nothing had hit him yet, but he doesn’t think too much about it in fear of jinxing it. 

Pearson carries a wounded Swanson while Lenny helps Javier and Bill shoots a distraction. The girls move quickly, Grimshaw holding her rifle tight as the shotgun slings on her back, “Clear, Morgan!” she shouts and Arthur nods, lighting the dynamite and throwing it. Another explosion, bodies drop. He spots Abigail holding Jack dearly to her chest as she stumbles towards them and Arthur scans her quickly, running to help her.

“The bastards got me,” She says with an exhale, Arthur slings her arm over his shoulder, telling her to hold on to Jack as he lifts her up with a groan. He carries them towards where the girls are now, hiding behind his tent with Pearson looking over Swanson's wound briefly.

Jack hides his face as Arthur drops them beside Karen, who holds a rusted revolver close to her, “Pearson?” Arthur glances towards Swanson who’s laying pale in the ground.

“Got him in the shoulder,” He replies hastily, “Should be fine if we can fix it up soon,”

“We’ll try,” Arthur nods, “Check on Abigail,” he orders, looking over towards Javier who smiles weakly towards him, “you rest, don’t put yourself in bullets way, we don’t want any casualties,” 

“Okay, boss,” Javier jokes weakly, but he nods palely and Arthur nods back.

“Bill, Sean, keep them secure, I’m counting on you,”

“Sure, Morgan,” Bill nods, Sean copying. Arthur turns and runs back outside towards the dynamite, grabbing it without stopping as he runs towards Dutch and Hosea.

“I’m running out of bullets,” Hosea muttered, “This isn’t going good,” 

“We’re all alive,” Arthur argues back fiercely, “We’re fighting, we’ll be alright,” he reaches into his satchel and retrieves two pistol ammo boxes, handing one to Dutch and one to Hosea, “they’re thinning out, I bet after these two boys get thrown they’ll flee. Their leader is dead anyway,” 

“I hope,” Dutch says quietly as he reloads, Arthur sighs as he nods, taking a few steps back as he lights the dynamite and waits for Hosea and Dutch to scurry back. Once they do, he throws the stick and closes his eyes from the bright light of the explosion. 

“Arthur!” Pearson shouts urgently and Arthur looks back, spotting Karen gasping on the ground.

“Shit,” he swears loudly and calls over Sadie, he hands her the fire bottle as he shouts for Kieran and Lenny to cover Sadie before making his way hurriedly towards Pearson. 

Tilly and Mary-Beth try to calm Karen down as she breathes rapidly, scooting back as Arthur kneels beside her. He holds back a swear as the blood seeps steadily from the stomach, he scans her again before pressing a hand to the wound, urging Pearson and Sean to cover them along with Bill. Sean begins to argue back, but Arthur fixes him an angry glare and he resolves to follow orders. Arthur turns back to Karen, calming himself for her sake.

“Karen?” Arthur says gently, soothing the back of his hand, now bloodied, on her head, “Karen, look at me,” he urges, drawing her gaze towards him instead of the sky, “that’s it, I know it hurts like hell, but I need you to breathe okay?” he nods encouragingly as she nods hastily, tears now brimming her eyes, “You’ll be alright, I promise,” he says though he’s not sure if the promise will make due, “Just breathe in, out,” he motions for Tilly and she nods, hoisting Karen’s head onto her lap, “Now, this’ll hurt, but it’ll be good for you alright? It’ll help you stay alive,” he warns as he pushes down on the wound slightly, increasing the pressure little by little so she wouldn’t be overwhelmed.

“you’re going to be okay, Karen,” Tilly whispers as she soothes her hand over Karen’s hair as Karen struggles under Arthur’s hand, “You’ll be alright,”

“Don’t lie to me,” Karen cries out, “I don’t want to die,” she says and Arthur shakes his head.

“No one will die,” he assures, “Everyone will be okay, have I ever lied to you?” he asks and Karen stares at him through teary eyes, “I always deliver on my promise, and I promised you’d be okay,”

“Arthur-” she sobs out and Arthur takes one hand off the wound, pressing with the other more firmly. He grabs her hand and squeezes it tight.

“Karen Jones, you will survive,” Arthur says, tone firm as she nods, “Now, breathe,” 

“I think that’s the last of them!” Lenny shouts and Arthur glances over his shoulder, indeed, the trees seem to be clear but Arthur shakes his head.

“Bill, take John and Sadie and look around the forest, shoot on sight.” He orders and Bill nods, scurrying off quickly as Arthur looks towards Pearson, “See what you can salvage from the medicine wagon, bring me anything that can help them,” he jerks his head towards Javier, Swanson, and Abigail, “Sean, call Hosea over for me, please”

“Sure, Arthur,” he nods as he leaves with one last worried gaze down to Karen. He looks up and Javier who shifts with a glance towards Karen. Abigail rocks Jack in her arms as the boy holds on tightly, eyes closed.

“We’re alright,” Arthur says gently, “See, I told you,” 

“Arthur-” Karen croaks weakly, “I-I… Thank you,” she whispers and Arthur shakes his head.

“No need, Just stay with me,” 

“Arthur!” Pearson calls as he kneels, dropping an assortment of medicine and a handful of gauze rolls beside him, “will this work?”

“Yeah, yeah it will,” Arthur nods, “You take care of them, I’ll handle Karen,” 

“Okay, Arthur,” Pearson nods as he grabs a few tonics and gauze as he moves to Javier first.

“Arthur...” Hosea pants as he drops to sit beside Arthur, “Damnit,” he whispers as he surveys how Karen looks.

“We need to get her to a doctor,” Arthur grits out, looking at Hosea desperately, “bleeding fast, won’t stop,” he breathes through the panic, now that the fight is over and he can feel the eyes watching him as Karen breathes steadily. 

“wrap her up,” Hosea says with a nod, “You can take her, take Sean too,”

“Nearest doctor is an hour away,” Arthur explains with a shake of his head, “I-I don’t know if...”

“We’ve got to try,” Hosea urges and Arthur nods, “Come on, I’ll help,”

“Thank you,” Arthur says as they move around Karen, pushing her into a sitting position and soothing her as she cries out in pain. Hosea shakes his head silently, grabbing a tonic and popping the lid off.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Music that fit this chapter:
> 
> https://youtu.be/QHdin-mdl0Q
> 
> https://youtu.be/kZuCrmg24io
> 
> also can I just say that the Braithwaite battle theme is SO FUCKING DOPE, it has no business being this much of a bop

Sean doesn’t put up much complaint as Arthur orders him around, helping Karen onto Barkley as he rides behind her. Arthur knows that Sean and Karen are sweet on each other in their own way, always flirting and such. He can see Sean is immensely worried about her, close to what Arthur saw in John’s eyes as he hurried to Abigail.

 

Karen leans heavily against Arthur's chest as they ride, he’s torn between taking it slow so he wouldn’t hurt her even more, or hurrying so they can get her medical attention as soon as possible. He tries to keep a conversation going, just to make sure she’s still with him, but he lets that die when Karen states she’s tired. Her hand goes limp against him and for a moment he thinks it’s too late, but she can feel her breathing and so he replaces her hand with his own; desperately trying to keep the bleeding under control.

 

“Arthur?” Sean asks, eyes wide as he stares at Karen, “I… she-don’t-”

 

“She’s breathing,” Arthur says tiredly, “but we need to get there fast,” Sean nods in agreement as they ride faster.

 

 

 

 

“Doc!” Arthur shouts as soon as they skid in front of the Valentine doctor’s office, Arthur slides down quickly, Sean helping him carry Karen. The town's people stare at them as Arthur rushes to the door, busting through it, “Doctor Riley!” Arthur calls, “We need your help!”

 

“My god, Mister Callahan!” Riley gasps in shock as Arthur lays Karen down on the bed, “What happened?”

 

“Some bastards shot her,” Arthur replies angrily, turning to Riley, “She’s been bleeding a lot, come on, make yourself useful!”

 

“S-sorry,” Riley stammers as he bends to get a closer look, “I can see the bullet,” he notes, prodding at the wound, “Looks like it hit her liver,” Riley sighs, straightening “She needs surgery,”

 

“Well, do it then,” Arthur says impatiently and Riley splutters for a second, “If it’s money you’re worried about, here,” Arthur digs into his satchel, grabbing a wad of cash and throwing it between them, “there’s your damn money, just save her goddamn life!”

 

“Of-of course, Mister Callahan,” Riley stutters, picking up the money and tucking it into his pocket, “Please step out, I-I’ll tell you when I’m finished,”

 

 

 

Arthur and Sean wait tensely outside, filling their time by pacing up and down the clinic and sharing few words. Arthur checks his watch regularly, sighing when he realizes its seconds passing by. Eventually, Sean settles into holding his head between his hand and being a sorry sight.

 

Arthur was never a man of words, but he tries to comfort him as much as he can, even if he himself doesn’t know if his words are true. Sean stays silent, which says more to Arthur than any tears could and so they sit close together, not trying to fill the air between them.

Dutifully, the gang check up on them one by one, Hosea and Dutch decide to stick around with them as Hosea consoles Sean quietly.

  
Arthur and Dutch share glances, Arthur so desperately wanting to talk about Micah but not finding it in himself to worry about it while Karen is between life and death the next room over. When it’s high noon, almost five hours after Arthur had brought Karen in, Riley steps out, gloved hand bloodied as he takes off his gloves and sighs.

 

The four of them are on their feet, Hosea subtly holding Sean’s forearm tightly as Arthur waits eagerly, knot tight in his chest as they wait.

 

“You’re very lucky, Mister Callahan,” Riley says with a tired smile, “She’ll be okay, we’re not out of the woods yet, there’s risk of infection but she okay for now,”

 

“Can we see her?” Dutch asks quietly and Riley nods, pointing them towards a door and they fill into the room.

 

 

 

Karen is on the bed tucked into the corner, she looks pale but better than when they had first arrived. Sean hurries to her side, taking her hand in his and kneeling on the floor. Arthur grabs him a chair, urging him to sit on it instead of the ground. With a final reassuring squeeze to Sean’s shoulder, Arthur throws a look towards Karen and turns to leave.

 

 

 

 

 

“What’ll we do now?” Arthur asks as they ride towards what’s left of the camp, they walk in a trot beside each other through the green trees.

 

“I don’t know,” Dutch sighs, “This… this is bad, many of us are wounded,” he says with a deep breath, “Most of our food and tents have burned, we used up our last bit of supplies on those who got hurt. We can’t move now, people too weak,”

 

“We’ll figure it out,” Hosea assures calmly, “We always do, what’s important is that we’re all alive,”

 

“Karen almost didn’t make it,” Arthur says bitterly, “Reverend and Javier, they need doctors too?”

 

“No,” Hosea sighs, “Well, _I_ think they do, but Reverend is too deep down a bottle of whiskey to be moved and Javier fought tooth and nail to stay when we tried to get him to come with us,”

 

“Abigail?” Arthur asks and Hosea shakes his head.

 

“Got hit in the calf, but it was easy enough to fix up, John almost blew a fuse when she refused to leave camp and come with us,”

 

“Bunch of bull-headed dumbasses they are,” Arthur chuckles humorlessly to himself as they turn into camp, “I’ll go scouting for some place we can lie low in, we can move a few days from now but no more than that, Milton might be dead but Ross will surely take his place and there’ll be hells fire on our ass if we don’t figure out ourselves quick,”

 

“Sounds good,” Dutch nods, “and about… about Micah,” he adds, a flash of anger behind his eyes as Arthur and Hosea turn to him sharply, “I… I should have trusted your judgment, but…”

 

“It’s okay, Dutch,” Arthur says when Dutch’s words fail him, “What’s important is that we know now, and we didn’t lose someone over it,” not yet anyway. Karen’s teary eyes still float around Arthur's mind, but he doesn’t let them stick too much. He had almost failed, but he did not, luck was on his side today and for that, he thanks god.

 

“Arthur!” John calls as they get spotted, “Arthur, what are we going to do?”

 

“We don’t have a place to sleep!” Tilly cries out from behind him as the gang slowly forms a circle around him. He passes a desperate glance towards Dutch, but it lasts no more than a second as Lenny and the others throw their questions at him. His mind swirls at the overload of voices, all demanding him be quick on his feet and hatch an answer he does not have.

 

He winces as he dodges their hands and moves deeper into camp with them following his trail. The camp is in ashes, his tent half burnt with his paintings bullet ridden. He sighs as he turns and raises a hand to stop their questions, Hosea rounds them as they wait for what he has to say and Arthur shifts on his feet.

 

“Look,” He starts, “I know that you’re all anxious, I can’t really say I’m not too but we’ll figure it out. Right now,” he paces the length of the group and then back, trying to refine his words as much as he can, he doesn’t understand how Dutch does this all the time. Though, he supposes, that’s why he’s their enforcer and not their leader, “We need to stick together as much as we can, this was a destructive fight, we almost lost but, as always, we managed to pull our own,” he curls his fists for a moment before relaxing again, “Soon, we’ll be moving again, we’ll replace what we lost, and I promise that at the end of this, we will be free, we will get out of this mess, once and for all. But for now, we need to survive, I need you to believe in me, in us,” he turns to their defeated faces, “and thank you, you did real good today,” he ends as he awkwardly nods. Bill and John nod back as some spark of hope weaves itself between the gang members, Arthur will take it, he would have preferred Dutch do the talking, speeches aren’t his specialty, but he thinks he did okay. Relatively.

 

Hosea is by his side as the gang disperses, “Good job,” he congratulates, and Arthur scoffs with a small mocking smile, “It’s weird, you know, to watch you be a leader,”

 

“Don’t let Dutch hear you say that,” Arthur says jokingly, raising a hand to swat the air around his face, “I ain’t a leader, don’t know why everyone is so suddenly acts like I am,”

 

“Dutch is letting you take lead, Arthur,” Hosea points out, “You saved us many times now, Bill even said you reminded him of his Sargent,” Hosea smiles as Arthur copies, “You handled the situation well, I truly think that we would have lost much more if we didn’t have you around,”

 

“oh, what will you do without me?” Arthur says dreamily, tone obviously sarcastic as Hosea hits his arm in good nature, “I just did what I had to, Hosea, don’t mean I’m the new Dutch,”

 

“No,” Hosea agrees, “but we don’t need a new Dutch, do we?”

 

“Hosea-”

 

“Arthur,” Hosea cuts in, placing a hand on Arthur's shoulder, “I know you don’t think that much of yourself, but have you seen yourself these past few months?”

 

“I just don’t-” Arthur tries but Hosea shakes his head, and he falls silent.

 

“You’ve protected us ever since you realized our luck has turned, ever since those forsaken mountains, you’ve been nothing but keeping us alive and in the process you’ve gained more and more trust from the gang and now…”

 

“So you just want me to replace Dutch, is that it?” Arthur asks impatiently, arms crossed over his chest as they stop walking.

 

“I don’t want anything, Arthur” Hosea sighs tiredly, “I’m just stating the obvious,”

 

“Well, if everything works out, we won’t need a leader no more,” Arthur says dismissively, not wanting the conversation to continue, “You and Dutch can be lazy retired old men whining at us for no good reason, sipping whiskey somewhere quiet and playing fetch with Cain,”

 

“Sounds nice,” Hosea says wishfully and Arthur nods, “I hope it can work out, I really do,”

 

“Me too, I-” he starts but stops abruptly, not knowing how to voice his concerns, “I just hope everything works out in our favor, Tahiti or not,”

 

“Either way, I just hope we can get out of this alive,”

 

“Amen to that,” Arthur agrees, “I think… I think of something awfully dangerous,” he admits, “I think that if I managed to kill the other agent, we might end things,”

 

“That is a dangerous thought,” Hosea sighs, frowning for a second, “I wouldn’t want us in anymore light,”

 

“I know, I don’t like our names in the paper either but… I don’t know, maybe I want some type of closure,” Arthur shakes his head, confused at his own urges but tempted to act on them. They killed Colm, killed Milton, Arthur surely will kill Micah. Seems like the only one left, the only one that can hurt them is Ross.

 

“For what?”

 

“For all the pain they had caused us,” Arthur answers, he and Hosea share a stare as Hosea asses Arthur closely.

 

“Revenge, Arthur, not closure,” Hosea corrects quietly, “Maybe you have become more like Dutch than I seemed to realize,”

 

“It ain’t revenge,” Arthur says defensively and Hosea waits patiently for an explanation, “I don’t give two shits if Ross lives, but he’s the only one that can bring us down, only one that knows our faces. Whoever might take our case, well, _if_ anyone takes our case, they won’t know any of us! Doesn’t that sound nice?”

 

“If our plan works out, your plan,” Hosea starts, looking off over Arthur's shoulder, “We won’t have no one on our back no more, you don’t need to kill anyone,”

 

“I-” Arthur starts before nodding, “I understand, I think,” he resolves, “you really think I shouldn’t do this?”

 

“I just want is to disappear,” Hosea admits, “I… I’m tired of this whole running away thing we’ve got going on, I just want us to get out. You’re painting an awfully nice picture with that…Tahiti talk of yours, seems that you’ve got it all figured it out, I just wish we can actually do it,”

 

“We will,” Arthur assures, “Once Karen is on her feet, we’ll be on our way to some untouched paradise,” he says with a bitter chuckle, he shakes his head before smiling at Hosea “We’ll be fine, two months time we’ll be happy without new lives,”

 

“I hope,” Hosea sighs, as they share a nod.


	25. Chapter 25

Arthur sits on his ashy bed, he doesn't mourn the loss of much, he still has his pictures and his trinkets. Most clothes have escaped unscathed.

His journal is in his hands as he writes calmly, worries slowly dying down as the gang grasp to cheer themselves up. Most are angry about their recently announced betrayal, many venting together and to Arthur.

  
Dutch had told him to meet him to discuss what they should do, but for now, he waits for Sean for news about Karen.

He wonders idly if it counts as revenge. He hadn't done it with his own interest at heart, he would have shot Micah first thing if it had been. He desperately wanted the gang to survive one way or another, and a key point was making them see the truth.   
  
He won't deny he's pretty happy towards their anger, chest light as final satisfaction elevates his mood greatly. He's smiling softly as he sketches Cain sitting at the foot of his bed, Arthur hadn't even thought of the dog during the fight and he was nowhere to be seen after and he had thought that maybe he had run away or worse but was pleasantly surprised when Cain barked his arrival through the trees.  
  
Jack had been extremely happy to see him too, a smile finally breaking his scared shivers.   
  
"Arthur," Hosea greets as he thoughtlessly swipes a hand over Arthur's half burnt table. Arthur nods once instead of replying as he closes his journal.  
  
"How's everything?" Arthur asks and Hosea raises a shoulder, "Sent someone to search for a spot yet?"  
  
"Charles and Kieran," Hosea answers, "Boy needed some time to breathe, almost knocked himself out trying to help Grimshaw," he chuckles gently, "he's a nice kid,"  
  
"Yeah," Arthur agrees, "gets a lot of shit,"   
  
"Yeah, Bill especially,"   
  
"They're warming up though, seems everything mellowed out for him after Colm's death," Arthur says and Hosea nods, "So, you came here just to pass the time or?"  
  
"I wanted to know what you think we should do," Hosea says as he straightens, looking at Arthur fully, "about Micah, and all, Dutch wants us to hunt him down but he still wants to take your opinion. Feels mighty guilty, I guess,"  
  
"Well... He should, but I think hunting him down is good enough," Arthur pushes himself to his feet, "I want to take the job though, I know you think me being here will bring some kind of peace but-"  
  
"I get it, Arthur," Hosea assures gently, "Dutch was thinking maybe it'd be you, him and John handling it,"  
  
"I'd guess he has extra guns," Joe and his other friend, he can't quite remember his name, "Maybe Charles and Sadie could come as backup,"  
  
"Sure, I'm guessing Dutch would approve of anything at this point, still fuming in his shock. Thought he'd burn the rest of his carpet pacing on it," Hosea chuckles as a small smile graces his face, “What’ll we do after?”

 

“After killing Micah?” Arthur completes, pausing to smile himself at the thought, “Leave, leave this mess behind, go somewhere nice,”

 

“Tahiti, you said?”

 

“I did, but I don’t know, I’ve got it planned out, the gang seem excited about it but I’m...I’m afraid,” Arthur admits, he’d been having dreams lately, events of Guarma mixing in with his hope of what life would be like in Tahiti, “I heard...I heard real bad things about what can happen at sea... don't want to be the reason we die or get stranded somewhere shitty,”

 

“Well,” Hosea says calmly and Arthur looks at the ground, “We’ll think about it together, you don’t really need to shoulder the burden alone,”

 

“I just want it to be perfect,”

 

“I know, son,” Hosea assures, “we’ll be alright, all of us, once Karen is on her feet, Micah dead, we’ll be alright, even if we don’t leave,”

 

“Thanks, Hosea,” Arthur says, looking up at the older man appreciatively, Hosea nods once, giving a supportive smile as he slowly makes his exit. Arthur sits for a moment, reflecting on his situation.

 

Tahiti, no matter how sour the idea had gotten, it still sounded nice, the ocean, some land they could farm on, no law on them. Sounded real nice, too nice to be true. A dream even, one Arthur so desperately wanted to pursue, if he was on his own, hell, he’d be on a boat right now, uncaring weather he drowned or found salvation. But he’s with his family, his big, messed up, rugged and weary family.

 

He sighs, tucking his journal into his satchel and leaving his tent without any goal set in mind. A ride would be nice, but Barkley is still spooked from the fight and Arthur doesn’t fancy getting bucked. He helps Grimshaw throw away all the burnt wood, moves the bodies with Lenny and had a one off with Bill, trading insults. The mood becomes cheerier as Javier announces that his guitar had come unscathed and plays a tune while Pearson uses whatever they can save to make them dinner. Tilly and Mary-Beth escape Susan’s demands, sitting calmly as Javier sings and Bill complains to Hosea.

 

All in all, Arthur feels that it’s finally coming together.

 

 

 

“I don’t have any good idea where he’d be heading,” Arthur admits, John, Dutch, Charles, and Sadie all discussing how they could find Micah, “But he can’t have gotten far, hell, he might even come back since he’s got no one to tell him we know,”

 

“What should we do then,” Charles asks, looking around and Arthur sighs, looking over to Dutch.

 

“We should start by asking around nearby towns, anyone knows of him or heard of him… Ain’t too many men matching his description, I believe,” Dutch says, looking over the men and woman in front of him, “We could split into groups, Sadie and John, Charles and Arthur and I’ll head alone,”

 

“Now, that’s just a dumb ass idea,” Arthur interjects, “splitting is fine, but you heading alone, Dutch? We don’t know how many men he’s got with him,”

 

“I’ll be fine, Arthur,” Dutch sighs and Arthur shakes his head, “Well, I ain’t letting one of you go alone,”

 

“Then maybe we can get another gun to get with us, we don’t want to lose no one, Dutch. We don’t know the stakes, and getting caught off guard can kill, no matter how good of a gun you are,” Arthur argues back, “Maybe one of us could stay behind even, if he comes back I don’t want Bill blowing his head off before I get my turn with him,” Arthur growls dangerously, surprising himself at the poison in his voice. Dutch stares at him for a moment, Arthur blinking away the rising anger in his throat, he can feel it now, many many months of anger resurfacing. He wants revenge, he realizes, he wants to kill the bastard himself.

 

Before he can continue on that thought, Dutch speaks, “Sadie could stay, then we’ll be even and each two could go off together,” Sadie opens her mouth to argue but closes it again, eying Dutch and Arthur before nodding with a mummer.

 

“You take Charles, I’ll take John,” Arthur says and Dutch nods, “Which direction you heading?”

 

“I’ll go towards Valentine, you can look around in Annesburg and Van Horn, we’ll meet in Saint-Denis,” Dutch explains and Arthur nods, “You find him, make him regret ever messing with us,” he adds, voice low and dangerous as he and Arthur share a stare. Arthur nods, not needing Dutch’s word to show Micah what it feels like to die slow and painful.

 

“Sure,” Arthur replies, turning to John, “whenever you’re ready, we head out,”


	26. Chapter 26

Arthur and John head to Van Horn, stocked up for a few days worth of food and ammo, ready for camping. Arthur can basically feel determination leak out of John, face held firm and a wild glint in his eyes that resembled the one he held when he was a kid. Though he knows he’s the one holding sense between them, Arthur can’t help but let himself feel the murderous urges, not holding them back anymore.

 

Micah, it seemed, had forgotten how the Van Der Lindes get when they’re angry. Forgotten how dangerous they are, never learned from the examples thrown at him when he’d first arrived. Patrick Stewy, Tanner Walker, Jason Leahead, all killed for their betrayals, and some more for lesser things. Micah has succeeded once, didn’t get to feel the treatment, but now he has failed and it will rain hell's fire on him. The wait had been worth it, Arthur thinks, knowing that he gets the satisfaction of killing the bastard and have the camp behind him. Knowing Dutch isn’t knocked over the head and blinded by his so-called plans and ambitions, knowing that everyone is safe, those he could have saved are alive. He still feels bad about the Callender boys, Jenny too, sweet little thing she was with a fierceness to her. She and Sadie would have gotten along.

 

They reach Annesburg just as the sky darkens, Arthur slows to a trot as he and John scan the crowd of people. After a moment, Arthur leads his horse to the hitching post and ties Barkley to it, with a pat to Barkley’s mane, Arthur turns to John “We should split, I’ll check the stores, you ask locals and meet me in the Saloon when you’re finished,” he says, John nods and hitches his horse beside Arthur's.

 

“Good luck,” John wishes as they go their separate ways.

 

Arthur looks around for a moment, walking thoughtlessly as he tries to think which shop would Micah visit. He thinks maybe the Gun-store, he knows Micah loves his guns, brandishes them like they’re his sons and waves them as proud as a mother. He heads there, spotting John already chatting up a group of working men. The bell rings as Arthur enters the store and the clerk smiles as he invites him to look at their new stock.

 

“Thanks, friend, but I actually came here to ask about someone,” Arthur says, eyes trailing over the shining guns under the display glass. Maybe he can get a new rifle or a pistol while he’s at it. He shakes his head, focusing at the task at hand, “Uh, Micah Bell, annoying little feller, blond, dirty, has a scar on his chin?” Arthur describes, the clerk looks at him funny and Arthur blinks innocently.

 

“Micah Bell… doesn’t seem too familiar, but the description you gave, sounds like someone who’d passed here a few days ago. Got a loud mouth, tried to get the women to sleep with him, caused a fight in the Saloon,” the clerk furrows his brows, “I’d go ask Lauren, she handles the bar up there,”

 

“Thanks, partner,” Arthur says, tipping his hat as he heads out towards the Saloon, he smiles as Lauren spots him, waving him over and pouring him a drink.

 

“Hello!” She greets, pushing the drink towards Arthur, “haven’t seen you in a while, friend,”

 

“Yeah, don’t pass through here too much,” Arthur replies, digging out a few dollars and pausing when Lauren shakes her head and pushes his hand away. With a shrug, he stuffs the money back into his satchel and drinks the whiskey.

 

“I don’t blame you,” she sighs, but brightens as she leans over the bar, “how’s Mister Perkins?” she asks and Arthur stares for a moment, before remembering that had been Hosea.

 

“Oh, he’s fine,” Arthur smiles and Lauren nods happily, “I, uh, I came here looking for someone,”

 

“Seems like that’s all you do, Mister,” Lauren jokes lightly and Arthur chuckles briefly, “So who’s it this time?”

 

“No one good, I’m afraid,” Arthur sighs, shifting to lean against the bar, “Micah Bell, uh, Loud mouthed asshole, heard he caused a fight here and I was trying to find him,”

 

“You some sort of Bounty Hunter?” Lauren asks, pursing her lips and tilting her head slightly, “I’ve seen him, had to get my brothers to kick him out, about a week or so before? Took out his gun on some drunk that was talking smack and then threatened to kill all my customers.” She says, shaking her head as remembers, “I don’t know where he went, sadly, didn’t talk much except to give his nasty attempt of flirting with the women or to talk shit to the men,” she adds with a sigh, “Sorry, Mister,”

 

“Ain’t no trouble, thanks for the whiskey,” Arthur smiles, “I’ll get out of your hair now, see you,”

 

“Send my hello’s to Mister Perkins!” Lauren calls as Arthur turns.

 

“Will do,” he nods compliantly, tipping his hat as he walks away. He scans the streets for any signs of John, spotting him with the paperboy and nodding to himself. He waits for a minute, watching as John begrudgingly digs out money from his pocket and shoves it towards the paperboy, who smirks and says something, presumably something important to their search.

 

John nods, giving a light shove to the paperboy before heading towards Arthur, “Any luck?”

 

“Fucking got robbed out of my money, but yeah, the kid says Micah was talking with another fella before they left. Someone named Joe or so the kid says, said they were planning on running away or something. Looks like he knows we busted him,” John informs and Arthur clicks his tongue, he bets his best money that Micah is on his way to meet Cleet, if he hadn’t already, and form their little hell gang and run off somewhere.

 

“Making his own little alliance,” Arthur says, “Alright, we visit Van Horn, see if you get robbed some more and then head to Saint-Denis,”

 

“Oh, fuck off,” John grumbles, shoving Arthur jokingly as he turns towards their horses, Arthur chuckles lightly as he follows, “Hey, at least I got something, what did you do, chat up the bartender?”

 

“Got a free drink too,” Arthur adds and John turns with a scowl, “Don’t you be sour now, just ‘cuz I got the charm and you lost yours don’t mean you have the right to be a bitter bitch,”

 

“Oh, shut the fuck up,” John waves him his middle finger, and Arthur laughs loudly, “We’ll see how charming you are when I kick your ass to next week,”

 

“I’d like to see you try, boy,” Arthur shoots back with a grin, “You know you never won a match against me,”

 

“Did too!” John’s scowl deepens, “Remember that time up in Armadillo?”

 

“I was feverish, doesn’t count,” Arthur denies, petting Barkley without thought as he mounts, “The only time you came close was up in Colorado, but that’s because you was so caught up you didn’t notice the snake up on us, dumbass you were, still are,”

 

“Honest mistake,” John grumbles as they trot out of Annesburg.

 

“Stupid mistake,” Arthur corrects and John shakes his head, “You got snake bitten, had Dutch up in my ear for a week about it,”

 

“Not like I set him on,” John snaps, “ ‘sides, I’m a better gun, the brain to your brawn,”

 

“You can say that when I lose my head, you? The brain? You must be kidding me,”

 

“You’re really annoying you know that?” John grumbles half-heartedly, shifting on his saddle as Arthur snorts, “I can’t be good at everything,”

 

“Little Johnny Marston can’t handle losing,” Arthur whistles and John raises him a rude gesture, he breaks out in quiet laughter, “Can’t take a joke, can’t _think_ , can’t _swim_ ,”

 

“Can’t shut your damn mouth,” John snaps back, chuckling as Arthur cackles beside him, “I’m real tired, we should set camp somewhere,” he says after a moment, Arthur nods with a lingering smile.


	27. Chapter 27

Van Horn is miserable as Arthur knows it to be, working men littering the street either drunk or ready to put themselves into a stupor. John had wrung his way into the saloon, leaving Arthur to _not_ get scammed and talking to the citizens.

 

“Gentlemen,” he greets a group of what he would guess are miners, they look up from their smokes, “I was looking for a feller, named Micah Bell, loud, obnoxious, full of shit?” the men chuckle between each other as Arthur describes, “Wears a white had, often a red shirt with a black coat?”

 

“Might’ve seen him,” One of the men says, “Blond, scar on his chin?”

 

“That would be him,” Arthur affirms and the man nods to himself, “where did you see him?”

 

“Was getting drunk with his friends, two nasty looking men, threatened Tom here to slit his throat if he didn’t buy them drinks,” The man ribs the man beside him with a playful chuckle, “booked it when the men inside pulled their guns on them,”

 

Another man cuts in “Heard the fella who seemed in charge, Micah you said?” he glances at Arthur who quickly nods, “Yeah, well, heard that the sheriff was after him, something about being a wanted man by two towns. Sheriff still ain’t back, we reckon he got killed, fool can barely control a bunch of drunks, thinks he can catch a wanted criminal?”

 

“You know where the sheriff headed?” Arthur asks and the men shake their head, “Know anyone who _would?_ ”

 

“Ask Peter, he’s the Sheriff’s brother, though if you have any chance of getting him back, Peter would probably refuse,” The man chuckled, “Hate each other, you see, Peter was supposed to-”

 

“I-I ain’t interested friend,” Arthur cuts him off, with a polite chuckle, from what is _surely_ a long feud story he doesn’t want to get involved in, “Where can I find him?”

 

“Up in the station, probably already named himself Sheriff,” The man answers, Arthur tips his head, touching the seams of it in thanks. He grabs a cigar from his satchel and throws it at the men.

 

“Thanks for the help, I’ll be going now,” Arthur raises a hand as the men call their farewells.

 

He passes John exiting the Saloon with a huff of annoyance, he quickly took his place beside Arthur as they walk towards the Sheriff’s office, “Found anything?”

 

“Found a pretty good lead,” Arthur says, “The Sheriff here chased Micah off, recognized him from Wanted Posters, chased him off, hasn’t come back,” he briefs as he pushes the Sheriff’s office door open.

 

A man dressed in an awfully bright yellow vest greets them, squinting at Arthur for a moment before smiling widely, “Hello, sirs, how may I help you?”

 

“You Peter?” Arthur asks, taking a step towards Peter, “I was asking about a dangerous man your brother was chasing when he disappeared,”

 

“Ah yes, Micah Bell, idiot thought he would be a hero if he caught him, said he’d catch his friends too,” Peter says distastefully, “Have I met you before?” he asks after a beat of silence.

 

“No,” Arthur answers, “First time up these parts,”

 

“You a bounty hunter, Mister?” Peter asks instead and Arthur nods reluctantly, “you after Micah Bell, then?”

 

“Yes, me and my partner over there,” Arthur points at John, who raises a hand in greeting, “Was wondering if you could tell me where your brother chased him off to,”

 

“And what’s in it for me?” Peter asks, crossing his arms over his chest. Arthur wages whether it’s better to play or threaten the man.

 

“Name your price,” Arthur says instead.

 

“Five hundred,”

 

“Over my dead body, I ain’t chasing Jesus himself,” Arthur counters, “Fifty,”

 

“ _Fifty?_ ” Peter splutters disbelievingly, “One fifty maybe,”

 

“Seventy-Five,” Arthur raises, Peter squirms, “Come on, friend, be thankful I’m not in the mood to bloody my fists,”

 

“Fine,” Peter relents, “Last I heard, Vincent was heading towards Lakay,” he informs and Arthur smiles.

 

“Wasn’t too hard was it?” Arthur asks sarcastically, “Come on, partner,”

 

“Hey, what about my money?” Peter calls after them, Arthur turns, “I gave you the information,”

 

“Yes, you did, but I’m not an idiot, not enough of one anyway, to pay you close to a hundred for a sentence, friend,” Arthur says and Peter takes a threatening step towards him, Arthur draw his gun calmly, “Now, Sheriff, don’t be stupid,”

 

“O-okay, just leave, please,” Peter stammers, arms raised in fear.

 

“See, that’s smart, come on, Jim,” Arthur claps John’s shoulder, dropping his gun back into its holster and walking out the office.

 

“ _Jim_?” John asks with a snort, “Do I look like a Jim to you?”

 

“It was either that or Adrian, you don’t strike me as an Adrian,” Arthur says simply, whistling for Barkley, John for Old Boy.

 

“So we heading to Lakay?” John asks, “Heard there was crazy fellers down there,”

 

“Night Folk, they call ‘em, scary bunch” Arthur shudders at the memory of getting chased, “Silent as a shadow, wilder than a feral cougar,”

 

“You run into them before?” John asks and Arthur nods, “Damn, we should keep our guard up then, they got guns?”

 

“Bows, Machetes, and Knives is what I saw,” Arthur answers truthfully, “I don’t think they got anything, easy enough to pick off, scary as shit, though,”

 

 

 

 

The sky is a deep shade of blue when they reach the swampy area known as Lakay, air thick and musty as Arthur remembers, they head to where Arthur remembers their camp had been. The shed is dark and molding, wild plants growing on its broken boards. John and Arthur leave their mounts in a safe area, they share a glance as they break off, John taking the back as Arthur enters through the front.

 

He keeps his ears better tuned than his eyes since it’s dark and gloomy enough inside. Years of house robbing and alleyway getaways made him great at distinguishing sounds, from the creaks of the decaying floorboards to the slight buzz of bugs loitering around. He’s light on his feet, as much as John likes to say he’s bad at stealth, he sure as shit can be quiet when he wants. The shadow of John’s figure catches his eyes, raising his gun just in case, he can see the metal of John’s pistol gleam in the twilight, Arthur signals him to check the back while he continues to the final room.

 

He can’t see any sign of recent life, some cans of food here and there, but he can’t inspect them well enough in the darkness. He rounds the doorway to the biggest of the rooms, what he recognizes as what was Dutch’s room, squinting at the overly dark shadow in the corner. He raises his gun, flattening himself against the wall so no one could surprise him, “Step out into the light,” Arthur orders, the shadow moves, the floorboard creaks, and Arthur keeps his finger off of the trigger.

 

The shadow steps out, from the sliver of light coming from between the cracks, Arthur can distinguish Cleet’s ugly face. He opens his mouth to speak again but is silenced as Cleet runs towards him, tackling him to the ground and punching him in the face before he could react.

 

He struggles to get a good grip on his gun, now a few centimeters away from his reach. He pushes Cleet off, pushing himself to his feet as he tries to grab his gun again. Cleet grabs his ankle, tugging him hard enough for him to lose his footing and crashes into the ground, shoulder popping uncomfortably. With a groan of annoyance more than pain, Arthur kicks Cleet, catching him in his throat and pushing himself to his feet again, this time successfully grabbing his gun and pointing it at Cleet steadily. He rolls his shoulder, wincing as a tendril of pain shoots through it but not giving it much thought as he bends to grab Cleet by the collar of his shirt.

 

“Where is Micah?” Arthur growls, pushing the barrel of his pistol against Cleet’s neck, “Answer me,” he gives him a shake, hitting him across the cheek with the butt of his gun. Cleet groans and grapples at Arthur’s shoulder.

 

“I-I-” Cleet stammers, “I don’t know,”

 

“ _Bullshit_ ,” Arthur says angrily, “Where is he!” he threatens, voice getting louder as Cleet splutters under him, “Come on, boy, he ain’t worth it, tell me and I _might_ spare your life,”

 

“He’s off with Joe, they-they were heading to the nearby Village to sell some pelts,” Cleets admits and Arthur presses the gun harder against Cleet’s neck, “I swear, they-they said they’d be back by midnight, that’s all I know, please,” he pleads and Arthur stares for a moment at Cleet’s begging face.

 

“Okay,” Arthur whispers, “Alright, I believe you,” he continues, “If I let you go, you run out of here and never come back, alright?” Arthur warns, “Or I won’t be so kind again,”

 

“Th-thank you,” Cleet sobs as Arthur lets him go, pathetic man doesn’t deserve to dirty Arthur’s hands, doesn’t deserve any ounce of guilt Arthur’s mind might pull. Cleet clambers off, bursting through the door as Arthur stands, dusting off his pants and following out into the night.

 

He goes to where John supposedly is, stopping when a gunshot sounds close to him. Quickly raising his gun again, Arthur walks carefully to where the sound had come from.

 

“Arthur!” John calls, Arthur instantly running to where the sound had come from, “Help, Help m-” he cuts off, Arthur running into the damp trees. He spots John’s gun and picks it up, tucking it into his belt and continuing on his search. There’s muffled sounds coming from the deeper trees and he follows them, first thought being that the Night Folk had gotten him, second being that it’s Cleet or Micah. “Arthur!” John calls again, Arthur following it as quickly as he can, mud sinking into his boots and slowing him down.

 

“Hold it, Morgan,” Someone says, making Arthur freeze, “That’s right, stay still, big man,” Joe says as he comes into view, “Scared off Cleet, did you?” he sneers, “Fat shit is as big a coward as you are a fool,”

 

“Put that gun down,” Arthur orders, “It won’t end well for you, buddy,”

 

“Tough shit,” Joe spits, “You’re the one at gunpoint,”

 

“I’ll take the bet that I can shoot you,” Arthur shoots back, “now, you don’t have to die, but I’d be glad to do it,”

 

“Whatever you say, Cowboy, you and your friend, Marston? you’ll be dead in a minute, I’m sure Micah’s already giving him good treatment,”

 

“You leave him alone,” Arthur growls, Joe laughs and Arthur takes the chance to pull up his gun, shooting Joe in the throat and watching his laughter turn into choking noises as he slowly collapses into the mud. He leaves him, quickly heading to where he last heard John.

 

John is struggling against his restraint when Arthur finds him, tied against a tree. As soon as he sees Arthur he struggles harder, shaking his head as Arthur bends down to cut him free. He slides down the fabric around his mouth that had gagged him and John screams instantly "Arthur, behind you!"  
  
Dread seeps in as Arthur twists, pistol ready to fire when a heavy force pushes him off balance, his mind reels as blinding pain shoots from his side and he instinctively knows that he's been stabbed, the feeling not too strange to him but never this hard. This has an entire body's weight behind it, Arthur can't help but let out a pained scream, muffled by a hand as he throws his elbows behind him, hitting the attacker.   
  
Arthur feels the knife draw back from his skin and sees a flash of Micah's face as he raises the knife again and John wails in horror of what's about to happen, Arthur blocks it, pushing Micah's hand and he rolls away, pushing himself against the pain and taking a good look at Micah who grins in the moonlight, knife in hand as he stands in a half crouch, ready to attack again like a coiled snake. Arthur doesn't have his pistol, now far away, and so he takes out his knife, one hand squeezing his wound, trying to control the bleeding.  
  
"Micah," Arthur drawls threateningly and Micah snorts happily, "You and I both know one of us will die tonight,"   
  
"I do, cowpoke," Micah sneers and takes a step closer, Arthur doesn't move, half crouched himself in pain as he clutches his knife tight, “I’m putting my money on you,”  
  
"I've fought worse, with worse injuries," Arthur snaps back, taking a step towards Micah, who takes a step back, "So I wouldn't count on it, after all," Arthur takes another step, swinging his knife and Micah jerks back, knife grazing his chest, "There is nothing more dangerous than a wounded animal,"   
  
Micah lunges forward and Arthur steps aside, kicking Micah in the side as he tries to stab him. John keeps yelling for help, half of Arthur wants Dutch or Charles to appear miraculously, the other half wants Micah all for himself, kill him alone.   
  
"I've been waiting to do this," Micah says with a laugh as he straightens and bends again, running towards Arthur like a bull and tackling him to the ground, "For a long time," Arthur struggles as he rolls them over, Micah crushing his arm as he does and forcing him to roll away. He's sure that he broke something, but the rage and adrenaline circling his blood make the injury seem minuscule as he lunges forward and swings wildly. With a satisfying yelp, Micah stumbles backward cradling his face, "Oh you got me… got me good, _cowpoke_ ," Micah says as he chuckles maniacally, Arthur smirks as Micah bleeds, now half blind.   
  
"Give up, if you want to live," Arthur snarks and Micah shakes his head.  
  
"I'm going to hear your last breath," Micah threatens as he runs towards Arthur, who steps back but gets stopped by a tree, he swears at the stupid mistake as he pushes Micah's hand away, groaning internally as his side screams and shoulder burns. He tries to twist away but resolves to lean against the tree and kick Micah away.  
  
Micah stumbles but recovers quickly and lunges at Arthur again, this time knocking him to the ground, "I've got you now!" He laughs victoriously as he raises the knife, John wails loudly for anyone to help as Micah brings the knife down, Arthur grabbing his hand and trying to wrestle it away.  
  
They struggle, Arthur's shoulder clicking awkwardly as Micah tries to fight his grip "I-I always knew you're a rat!" Arthur remarks with poison filling his voice, Micah laughs in response "I should've killed you, so…. many…. months ago,"  
  
"But you didn't," Micah grins crazily, "You didn't and now, _now_ you'll pay the price," He says as he pushes the knife further down, Arthur's shoulder gives and his hand falls numb, no longer able to hold. Horror fills him as he sees the knife disappear from his view, all he can do is push it away from his heart.  
  
He feels the breath push out of him as the knife digs deep into his chest, John shouts threats and promises of death at Micah but all falls on deaf ears as Arthur's vision blurs and all pain hits him at once, broken fingers, stab wounds and his shoulder, whatever the hell happened to it again.

  
Micah laughs as he gets off, leaving his knife embedded in Arthur's chest as he steps back, "I told you, Arthur," Micah speaks loudly in victory, "you and I, we could've been the best out there, but you chose your honor!" He rants, "look what that got you!"   
  
"I'd die," Arthur wheezes, "I'd die… or kill myself, before I ever _think_ of being like you,"   
  
"Ohh," Micah laughs, stepping closer and placing a harsh hand on Arthur's shoulder, pushing him down and taking out the knife swiftly. Arthur grits his teeth, trying to hold back his screams as the warm blood starts to seep out of his chest, "You're no better than me, just because you help a few poor folk, don't mean you're a good person,"  
  
"Never said I was," Arthur barks back, chest tightening against where the blade had been, he coughs roughly and it doesn't help, more blood gushing out, "But I'm not scum, like you,"   
  
"Arthur," John says sadly, Arthur looks at him, surprised at the determined anger in his eyes, his eyes dart to somewhere behind Arthur and Arthur twists to look. There, in the mud, in the moonlight lie his pistol, shining like a beacon of hope. If he dies, at least Micah will too, if it takes his last breath, he will kill the bastard.  
  
"I'm just surviving, Arthur," Micah monologues as his eyes scan John, "You and Your _brother_ here,” he drawls sarcastically, “ you chose to live like cowards, you'll never be able to leave this life behind. Especially you, John," he says as he takes slow steps towards John.  
  
"Whatever you say, rat," John spits back angrily as Arthur crawls painfully towards his gun, "I choose to live like a human being, like a decent man,"  
  
"I hope that thought consoles you because believe me, John Marston, you'll never see the light of day again," Micah digs out his knife again, kneeling in front of John who spits at him the first chance he gets, "You watching this, Arthur?" Micah calls, his eyes leaving John's as Arthur twists to his back, Pistol in hand.  
  
He raises it shakily as he aims, Micah looks shocked which quickly turns into fear as Arthur spits out, "Go back to hell," and then the shot rings out, Arthur is once again blinded for a second, body shaking as a new wave of agony rolls over it. John struggles against his restraint, looking down at Micah's body.  
  
"He's dead," John assures, looking back at Arthur.   
  
Arthur can't help a smile that takes over his face, he can feel his body relax dangerously as his hand falls to his side. He can't move, too numb and tired, John calls his name, Arthur can only look at him, mind screaming for him to cut off his restraints, make sure he can defend himself if anything or anyone comes by after all this is dangerous territory. But Arthur can only look at his brother screaming, no sound reaching Arthur's ears as they ring loudly. Darkness fills his vision, pulling on his eyelids and he lets them close, last memory being John screaming at him.   
  
  



	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and delayed but the first ending will be up in a few hours!

Six days.

 

It takes Arthur six days to wake up, by that time, John almost runs himself bald. Hosea and Dutch run around each other, arguing about nothing. No one really knows what to do, Arthur is the one who held the plans, and now he’s not waking up.

 

Those who try to keep the camp peaceful, aka Pearson and Grimshaw, tire themselves in vain. It’s not the first injury they’d taken, but certainly the first time the threat of losing Arthur had become so real. When finally a Village Citizen had found John tied to the trees and untied him, all John could see was Micah dead and Arthur on the ground not moving, hadn’t moved in a while and logically he’d assumed the worse. John at that pointed had yelled himself hoarse, whether it had been at Arthur to wake up or someone to find him.

 

Dutch never really accounted to find Arthur bleeding from his chest, never really made plans to ever see Arthur die, never thought it was something that could happen. He’d always been a pole of reassurance to everyone, Dutch and Hosea included, seemed to have a superpower for bouncing back from any injury quick and witty.

 

But this time, when John carried Arthur to Dutch, unconscious and unresponsive with his shirt soaked in his blood, Dutch’s fears surfaced really quickly.

 

Charles had seen Dutch go through numerous emotions in the last year he’d been with them, never had he seen his face turn so worried and scared. John had been quick to explain the brawl that happened, urging them to get him to a professional. They didn’t waste any time, heading deeper into Saint-Denis towards the doctor’s office.

 

Once there, John had feared that he was holding no more than a corpse, Arthur didn’t wheeze, didn’t make any noise on the ride or while moving him. But a quick press of his fingers on his neck assured him that he’s still hanging, as weak as the pulse had been, it put them at ease as they barged through the doctor's office like madmen.

 

They’d waited for hours while the doctor worked, the nurses tending to John’s bruises and trying to get them to talk, something about going into shock. Dutch had tries to wave them off, emotions too raw to be nice, but eventually let them hand him the cup of tea.

 

After what seemed like a lifetime, the doctor emerged, looking tired and solemn, which almost sent John off his rocker. He assured them that he did his best, it’s left to Arthur to either overcome the effects of blood loss or succumb to them.

 

And so they waited, Dutch not leaving his side, feeling guilty and angry, getting little consolation in knowing that the bastard who did this is dead. Charles had set off to tell that gang about the recent events, leaving Dutch and John to comfort each other fruitlessly.

 

Hosea is first to visit, Javier hot on his heels as slowly the gang crowds the Doctor’s office. Dutch can’t find it in himself to be appreciative. They’d all come, Abigail dragging Jack, Tilly helping Karen and Kieran holding Mary-Beth supportively. They don’t speak much, Charles handles the crowd well, keeping them respectful as he explains what happened according to what John had told him.

 

They crowd the room, silently watching Arthur’s shallow breathing and sharing quiet comforting gestures, John holds Jack tight, Abigail holding his hand. Sean and Karen sit on the floor together, Grimshaw having Hosea’s arm over her shoulder as she watches sadly. Tilly sits with Lenny and Bill as Charles and Javier exchange worried glances and discuss what they can do quietly. Dutch has Molly beside him, her hand planted on the middle of his back, but he doesn’t really pay it much attention, one hand holding Arthur’s gently.

 

Eventually, Pearson appears with food, handing each of them a plate and he himself sits silently in the corner.

 

At the end of the day, the nurses timidly tell them they can’t stay longer, not at this number at least and so after a small argument and a lot of pestering, Charles and Lenny usher everyone out, not even trying to get Hosea, Dutch and John to leave, knowing it’ll be useless. He doesn’t want to leave either, but it’s better for everyone to not suffocate in the same room with Arthur.

 

Dutch and Hosea exchange looks, both angry at the situation and taking it out on each other, knowing it’s the safest option since they know not to take thing by heart. Still, arguing is arguing and often John had to cut them off with an annoyed jab.

 

They sit miserably for six long days, John had almost lost hope, only when Hosea and Dutch started to join him, they heard Arthur’s jagged coughs. They’re instantly on their feet, each of Dutch and Hosea holding Arthur’s hands. John watches from a few paces away. They all wait till Arthur collects his breath and slowly, ever so slowly, opens his eyes.

 

They collectively relax as Arthur stares at them in confusion, looking between them and quietly, voice rough, saying “What’s got you old men so worried?”


	29. Ending one- Tahiti

_Six Months After._

 

The sun is high in the sky, the promise of sunburn and sweat very real as Arthur turns the soil tiredly. His arms ache as he moves along, he wipes at his forehead and pauses, catching his breath briefly. It’s been a few months since they first planted their seeds, Strawberries, Bananas, and Melons. The Strawberry bushes had already sprouted flowers at this point, not really as sweet as they can be but they’re going to get better, or at least that’s what Uncle had said.

 

He sets the fork down, stretching his back and heading to the shady garden tucked behind the short fence, a meager way of dividing the land. He can spot Jack picking the flowers from their growing trees, Sean is drinking their never-ending stock of strawberry juice with Karen. The others are most probably working on the rest of the farm, he can hear John whine with Lenny from the other side of the field, weeding duty being the most distasteful amongst the tasks that they’d split.

 

“Arthur,” Hosea greets, two cups full of juice between his hands, he hands one to Arthur and smiles happily, “You need a shower,” he points out jokingly and Arthur huffs with a quirk of his mouth, truer words haven’t been spoken.

 

“How’s everyone?” he asks, sipping readily at the cool juice, he scans the garden again, feeling a familiar sense of calm fill him. They had made it, they’re unknown to the other farmers and civilians of Tahiti. To them, they’re a group of Americans who got too tired of the hectic life and decided to become farmers on an island. Not wanted criminals, not Outlaws.

 

Arthur smiles to himself, missing Hosea’s response as Jack waves at him happily. “I’ll talk later, Arthur,” Hosea says, Arthur noticing Kieran waiting at the edge of the garden, with a nod, Hosea leaves to the young man.

 

Taking a seat under the shade, Arthur lets himself cool down before Grimshaw spots him. It’s not much different, how they live, they’ve got a house now, two actually since they’re such a big group. Took them the better of five months to build them, still mostly unfurnished but no one can complain, they’ve got a place to call home and no one to chase them away, no need to hurry.

 

Tahiti is what Arthur imagined it to be, what Dutch, the _other_ Dutch, had praised it to be. A heaven on earth, clear blue beaches, good soil, and beautiful nature. The land they had bought was large, untouched and filled with hope. Arthur could swear Abigail was going to burst when they’d first arrived, they all shared the same hopeful, sickeningly happy expression. From day one, they had left their lives behind, hid their guns and stored their pasts as they struck up friendships with the local Tahitians.

 

They settled unrushed as they slowly built their homes and reputation, farming was never something Arthur thought he would do, but he settled easy into that too, better than others at least.

 

“Uncle Arthur?” Jack’s voice calls, bringing Arthur out of his meditative state, “Pa called for you,” he informs, pulling on a petal from the flower he’s holding.

 

“I’ll be there, thank you, Jack,” Arthur smiles as Jack shares the sentiment and runs off to store the brightly colored flower. It’s fair to say some settled better than others, Bill, for example, had been more than happy for the monotonous tasks, the more brawn and no brain ones like raking and planting. Others, most notably John, had not been treated as kindly. He lacks the patience and general gentleness of the craft, doesn’t like to turn soil or check on pests or basically anything, Hosea had endured countless hours of whining as the jobs got distributed, John only seemed to accept house-related tasks.

 

“Arthur!” John calls out as Arthur rounds to the bushy field, “Arthur, look, you think this is normal?” he holds out a few strawberries and Arthur squints at the small fruit.

 

“You sure you didn’t just pick out young ones?” Arthur asks, not really concerned, Marston is a fool and not many of them know when to pick the fruits, Arthur can only thank years of random herb picking and reading up on gardening for his skill.

 

“No, I swear, these ones are the five-week-old ones, I planted them myself,” John replies, voice tangy with annoyance, “The leaves are orange, too, Arthur, I don’t think that’s normal neither,”

 

“Well, why didn’t you start with that?” Arthur says, echoing John’s annoyance, passing him as he takes a closer look at the bushes, true to his word, some leaves have started to lose their color and the fruits seemed to have shrunk, “Go talk to Hosea about it, I don’t got an idea for what’s happened but I’m fairly sure it’s the soil’s fault,”

 

“Whatever you say, boss,” John says eagerly, not wasting time to leave the field as Arthur picks out a few more strawberries, checking on the other bushes to note the damage. Their money can still keep them alive for a few months, most had been used to travel and buy the land, but the Civilians had been extremely happy to buy from them, their prices being cheap and stock full. The business hadn’t been crazy nor dull, Arthur had a hard time understanding the language, only to learn that it had been French and begrudgingly buying the first French dictionary he had found. Lenny had easily picked up the language, something about learning it from a romance book, Mary-Beth had shared the sentiment and started readily learning and teaching the language.

 

Overall, the past few months have been...unexpectedly eventful, not in any way bad, but Arthur wonders from time to time if this is how they’ll continue on their lives. Everyone seems happy, Karen is even getting better with her drinking habits, Uncle is still lazy but helps enough that Arthur can’t help but give him a bit of credit for their sales, Dutch had unwound, relaxed and retired. A major event had been Mary-Beth publishing her first book, under the name of Leslie Dupont, _French and ambiguous_ she had said in childish happiness. _Lovers in the past_ was published a month into their move, sent by mail to the US where her publisher awaited and getting sent back a few months later a good sum of money along with encouragements from the publisher and fans. It seems to have done something, between her and Kieran, sparked some sort of match that made them finally gather their wits and confess whatever tooth-aching love they share.

 

As for Arthur himself, his own little business, his art had gotten traction in the local museum. If he must admit, it had been increasingly fun to paint when it hadn’t been filled with lies and desperate charades. Arthur Callahan is still the curious artist who had caused chaos, but that’s in America, Arthur Callahan in Tahiti is a peaceful farmer with a tendency to swear mid-sentence while cracking business and an undefined past.

 

The days they spent together, no threat of death, no threat of imprisonment, had made them closer than ever. Whatever little rivalry the man had against each other, even without knowing it was a thing, had faded as they became one and truly equal. They are all farmers, they are all a united family, with no need to prove themselves and no need to rake in money so they can survive.

 

Arthur has to say, he thought he’d miss some aspects of being an Outlaw, the experience of meeting new and quirky people, the discovery of new places, the close relationship with nature. But he had found most of these in Tahiti, found the nature he loved so much, even stranger strangers, the language barrier making for some less than awkward situations, enough to make Arthur act like a fool. The one thing Arthur can confidently say he hadn’t expected was the dreams he had started to see, most are flashes from his first life, past life, whatever, he still hadn’t defined it. Flashes of memories, happy ones, ones that make him wake in a fevered state, ones that make him choke on his own breath. Memories he had forgotten, replaced with happier ones, ones that haven’t been tainted with tension and betrayal. Between the memories, Arthur is visited by the stag, once by the Coyote.

 

The first time he’d seen it again, he’d woken up with a start, confused between then and now, easing as he settles into his surroundings. At this point, the Stag has become an old friend, a way to connect with his old life, first life, past life, rather than a warning or a sign.

 

He sometimes wonders what happened, how things progressed after he died, whether John had found the salvation Arthur wished for him, whether things turned out well for him. He can’t answer the question himself but he hopes the best for him, whatever happened to that John, he hopes he at least lived happily. The John he sees now, though still possessing the frustratingly stupid act, is a little wiser, a little gentler as he connects with his son, connects fully with his family.

 

Arthur can well and truly say he’s happy, happier than he ever thought he’d be, sipping juice instead of beer on the beaches, watching Tahitians playing with dolphins, farming and painting, being a normal person, being a citizen, somewhere where their sins cannot follow, somewhere where he feels safe, for the first time in his life, Arthur Morgan can say he is safe and satisfied, together with his family, happy and flourishing. Arthur Morgan can say he will see himself grow old. Arthur Morgan can say he is for once and for all at home.

 


	30. Ending 2- Blackwater

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. The story I started as a way to cope with the ending of RDR2 is ending. I never planned for it to be this long nor did I ever think I'll become as invested as I am, but nevertheless, thank you, this would have never been finished if it hadn't been for your support and comments.

_2 years later_

  
The sun beats down on Arthur, his hat shades his eyes as he sits on the ground. The two crosses in front of him set a forgotten ache deep in his chest. He'd done it, he'd finally, after so many years of pain, visited his Son and Ex-Lover's grave.

They didn't leave, couldn't to be exact, once Dutch and John had gotten recognized near the dock in Saint Denis, they had set up Pinkertons all over the place, almost impossible to go through Saint Denis now, Arthur had barely been able to get put of the doctor's office and get his horses out of the stable before the place went into lock down.

They really wanted them, after Milton's death Ross seems to have a new reason to hunt them down.

But give up they shall not, as much as it had been a bummer to have their plans shot down , Arthur's backup was still intact, a little bit of land, just out north of Blackwater, if they buy it they'll have enough money to pay their bounties and set themselves up nicely. No bounties equal no reason to be sought after, no reason for the government to set the Pinkertons on them.

After they had headed west again, out to Cumberland forest, Arthur had put his plan into action, bought the land and went out to the Blackwater Police. Not to say it hadn't been outright stupid, but once the money had been set, the bounties payed, guns reholstered and Arthur's shitty way of negotiating , well, they started anew. Hosea and John had been waiting outside Blackwater, looking out so they'd know if anything happens to Arthur while he negotiates, had visibly relaxed when Arthur strode out of the station unscathed and seemingly happy.

The land they had bought was dry as they come, but with a little bit of work, they had manged to plant some vegetables and set up a ranch, more than the farm they expected. They've got cows, sheep and horses, working hard enough that they bring in money, no profit still, but enough money to keep food in their bellies and live comfortably. They built a house, at first everyone was crammed into it, once the sheep had started to sell and the horses gained traction (Finely groomed and bred by the expert hands of non other than Arthur) they had managed to buy a little bit more land and build another house. Now, Arthur, John, Abigail, Jack, Uncle, Sadie and Charles live in one house, Dutch, Hosea, Bill, Javier, Kieran, Mary-Beth and Grimshaw live in another. By some turn of events, Swanson had managed to pull himself fully out of his morphine haze, working for a church down in Blackwater and buying a small apartment for himself, it had been unexpected when he'd come to Arthur to excuse himself, looking halfway terrified as he begs for the approval but Arthur had congratulated him, gave him his share of the money and sent him off with the promises of visits, if they're allowed.

Then, Tilly had met a lawyer, fell in love with him, that had been almost a year ago, since then he had proposed and Tilly had left them to go live in Saint Denis, where his lawfirm is. It was a joyful departure, they had celebrated together, sending her off with smiles and well wishes and, again, promises of visitation.

Mary-Beth published a book soon after, her and Kieran got together not long after that, Karen and Sean had also somehow ended up engaged, no one really expected it, no one thought it'd be so soon or at all, but they seemed happy and once the surprise had faded, the ex-gang were celebrating again.

Sean and Karen had built a small side house, reserved only for the two of them, outside the primary Ranch, Sean had even gotten a job with the bank, as their carrier no less, which immensly amused Arthur once he had heard about it, but Sean had sworn up and down that he won't steal nothing, and once the news of Karen's pregnancy hit, his promises grew stronger.

Two years, it had taken two years for the gang to become completely normal. It had also taken two years for John to pull his head out of his ass and propose to Abigail, ask her to be his wife formally. John had spoken about it often, but said he didn't want to tie her to him if the Pinkertons failed on their side of the deal, Arthur had called him a fool several times for not realizing he had that woman tied around him like a second skin, her love for him won't be changed by the law calling them husband and wife, but it sure would be nice. Would be normal of them.

Again, the gang had found themselves celebrating as John and Abigail become lawfully wedded.

Arthur was happy, had thought that this is it, all he fought for, all he planned, everyone was happy, alive and flourishing. They were slowly setting up their own lives, with people separating to be with their loved ones, but they still write to each other, still are close.

What Arthur hadn't ever planned was to make a fool of himself, again.

He had met a woman. A woman he never thought would steal his heart, guarded as it was, but she did. She'd known him, known Arthur Morgan and what he is, known his past and his reputation and still, she didn't shoot him full of gunpowder and set him six foot under. She was fierce as they come, first time they met, she put a knife against Arthur's neck and a pistol to his chest, introduced herself as Grace Masterson and asked what brings him here and didn't settle until Arthur handed over every weapon he had.

She, supposedly, worked the farm that supplied their sheep, and they were looking for some more animals to stock. Their Cattle were bringing them good money, but their sheep had fallen behind and they needed a good bloodline to set them up again. He never handled the business with the farm, don't strike people as friendly with his scars and general build, though he does just fine scaring people into holding their deals. No one wants to mess with Arthur, and whenever Charles or John are with him while they handle deals in town, they go even smoother.

But not with Grace. She hadn't been scared, just defensive. She'd recognized him from the wanted posters, now nowhere to be found, thought he was out to rob her but after a quick explanation, she had turned surprisingly friendly and Arthur had found himself time and time again checking up on her. He had told himself it was for business, but he knew deep down it wasn't only for that.

It had renewed a sense of longing he had long since forgotten, he hadn't payed Mary much attention, realizing that the love he has for her will never be resiprocated as he wished it would, Mary will never know how to fully embrace him, even after he had left the life she so often spoke out against behind, their silly dream was destined to fail. But Grace had accepted him, from the start, had a shared sense of respect for each other, both out to survive, both knowing how hard it is out there, but neither going into full detail about how they know.

They fell into a relationship without realizing, it had taken Arthur an entire month to realize that he had let himself fall, let himself care about her deeply. Hosea had encouraged him to go for it, he deserved it, he should seek out what his heart tell him so desperately to follow. But he can't, not with the weight of his past, not the weight of a past life as an Outlaw, but his brief time as a father.

Isaac and Eliza, both a reason to never let himself fall and never let anyone close. It had been the closest thing back then to a blood family, he was so proud, so proud of himself and his son, so thankful for the woman that had known who he is, what he does, and still let him be a part of her life, his son's life. And in the end, he wasn't there to return the favor, wasn't there to protect them and had wound up with a grief that follows him every day.

No one deserves the same fate, he doesn't want anyone to end up like Isaac and Eliza had, especially Grace. But she didn't backdown, when Arthur had confessed, when he'd told her about how things ended up with the last people he thought of settling with, she didn't tell him he's a fool, she had assured him that she had shot people in the past, that she had survived nature and man and can most definitely survive any attacker that dares to think of harming her. She told him it's in the past, and that she was ready to wait while he got over it, even though he hasn't in over ten years. She loves him, she had said it himself, loves him with his sins and guilt intact, loves him as a farmer and loves him as an Outlaw.

Arthur couldn't have found a more reassuring conversation if he tried, he had left with the promise of return, went down to San Antonio where Isaac and Eliza had been buried. The trip was meant to give Arthur the closure he so hopelessly ignored, Isaac and Eliza are a bright chapter in his life that ended in stains, ended in pain and tears and Arthur almost drinking himself to death. He wants to end the grief, the guilt he doesn't think he can leave behind, but he can finally move on, can let himself live and love like he hadn't in years.

And so this is where he is. In front of the crosses, sitting calmly as the sun dips into the ground in front of him, between the two crosses. Arthur Morgan sets himself free, and he knows when he goes back, he can let himself be, can let himself love. Can finally be free.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I originally planned for this ending to be sad, but I though, what the hell, they have enihh sadness in the Canon so, here it is.
> 
> If anyone's interested, the sad part was going to be Ross pulling a rdr1 and taking Grace away to blackmail Arthur into working for him. So basically the plot of Rdr1 but with Arthur hunting down other gangs. But that's another story for another fic.


End file.
